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THE YOUNG RUSSIAN 
CORPORAL 




[See page 57 



1 IOGOLEVITCH, HE SAID, "i AM VERY MUCH OBLIGED TO YOU FOR 
THE ENTERTAINMENT YOU HAVE GIVEN US " 



THE 

YOUNG RUSSIAN 
CORPORAL 

The Story of the Youngest 
Veteran of the War 

BY 

Corporal PAUL IOGOLEVITCH 

A Soldier in the Russian Army at Tzvelve 
ILLUSTRATED 




HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS 

NEW YORK AND LONDON 



Jl 63 



otr' £b li 



The Young Russian Corporal 



Copyright 1919. by Harper & Brothers 

Printed in the United States of America 

Published September, 1919 

I-T 



>GI.A535 2 29 



CONTENTS 

CHAP. PAGE 

I. Who said slacker? i 

II. First blood 15 

III. A LEAP IN THE DARK 37 

IV. I CAPTURE A GENERAL 48 

V. I JOIN THE "FIGHTING THIRD DRAGOONS" .... 60 

VI. Dead man's shoes 76 

VII. Cold steel 97 

VIII. Surrounded by Germans 11 1 

IX. On patrol 135 

X. The battle of Savendiki 157 

XI. Wheelless wagons and fireless guns .... 181 

XII. A disastrous furlough 203 

XIII. Souvenirs 216 

XIV. Two against twenty 233 

XV. I meet the Czar 245 

XVI. Revolution 253 

XVII. Across Siberia 276 

XVIII. In the land of the free 285 

XIX. Under the American eagle 307 



(LLUSTRATIONS 

" lOGOLEVITCH " HE SAID, "I AM VERY MUCH OBLIGED TO 

YOU FOR THE ENTERTAINMENT YOU HAVE GIVEN US." Frontispiece 

I SAW THE HORSE REAR HIGH IN THE AIR, AND THEN THE 

HUN THREW UP HIS HANDS CONVULSIVELY .... Page 32, 33 

The next moment somebody's strong hand had 

grabbed me by the neck " 7 1 

"What was the meaning of the three horses I 

NOTICED NOT FAR FROM HERE?" " 85 

"You poor fiddler! Don't you know a dead man's 

boots are the luckiest you can wear?" . . " 95 

Before me was a huge German brandishing his gun " 105 

At length we managed to get out of the open 

field and found shelter in the woods . . " 129 

As I snatched it from the table I detected a 

STRANGE MOVEMENT OF THE OTHER TABLE-CLOTH " I51 

"Go up-stairs and wait until the Germans come!" 

I ORDERED " 171 

"I AM A POOR BOY AND I WANT TO EARN SOME MONEY IN 

THE VILLAGE BY PLAYING MY VIOLIN" . . . " 183 

When I regained consciousness I was rhjing on a 

HORSE, STRAPPED ACROSS HIS BACK, HEAD DOWN- 
WARD " 20I 

When I came to my senses I was still lashed to 

THE POST " 217 

The weapon was just in my hand when the officer 
turned and found himself facing his own 
revolver - . " 224 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

Captain Panunsev made a speech telling the men 
of my experiences and announced that i was 
to be presented for a second war cross of st. 
George Page 235 

I LEAPED IN FRONT OF THE RIFLES AND- ORDERED THE 
MEN WHO WERE ADVANCING TOWARD THE DOOR TO 
STOP AND THROW UP THEIR HANDS " 239 

A PATROL OF MOUNTED POLICE CAME GALLOPING DOWN 
THE STREET AND FIRED A VOLLEY OF SHOTS POINT- 
BLANK INTO A CROWD ON A CORNER " 257 

"YOU CALL ME A ROBBER, YOU RUSSIAN DOG!" HE 
SHOUTED, JUMPING AT ME AND SEIZING ME BY THE 
THROAT " 293 

"he seems to want to bleed the red cross, that's 

all — is that a crime in this country?" ... " 298 

"Courage and bravery won't win a war without 

ammunition to back them up," i declared . . " 323 



PUBLISHERS' NOTE 

When Paul Iogolevitch was working on the manu- 
script presented in these pages he dined one evening 
with Mr. Godfrey M. Lebhar, of New York, who 
was helping him to put the book into shape for 
publication. 

Paul didn't take any dessert. 

Some evenings later, when the two were again 
dining together, Paul again declined dessert. 

The idea of a boy consistently "passing up" 
dessert was unusual enough to prompt a question 
as to the reason. 

"I have not eaten sweetness since I was seven 
years old," the Russian boy explained, in his peculiar 
phraseology. "I was so fond of sweetness then that 
I thought it would be a good thing not to eat it. 
It taught me to say 'No' when I was strongly 
tempted to say 'Yes.' After a year or two I lost 
all desire for sweetness, and now I never eat it." 

The incident, unimportant in itself, is interesting 
because it reveals a phase of the boy's character 
which explains better than any other single factor 
how it was possible for him to have accomplished 
more at the age of seventeen than most of us even 
dream of achieving in a lifetime. The strength of 
will which he developed as a mere boy carried him 



PUBLISHERS' NOTE 

safely over obstacles which would have stopped most 
of us. 

When the Great War broke out Paul was well 
started on a musical career which promised to put 
him in the front rank of modern violinists. For 
the sake of an ideal — to prove that a Russian boy of 
the Jewish faith was not afraid to fight for his 
country — Paul promptly decided to abandon his 
musical career and fight for Russia. Because of his 
youth and other handicaps he had a hard time getting 
into the army, but his determination and persistence 
won the day for him. The boy violinist became 
the boy cavalryman. During the two strenuous 
years which followed, his will-power and devotion 
to an ideal carried him triumphantly through many 
a hair-raising adventure. 

"When the war was over so far as Russia was con- 
cerned Paul made his way to America, where he 
hoped to continue his fight for the Allied cause. 
Despite his military record, there was no place for 
him in our army. He was too young. 

Then some one told him that he could render 
greater service as a speaker in the campaign which 
the United States Shipping Board was waging to 
speed up war work, but Paul could speak hardly 
a word of English. 

He started at once to master the English language 
and within two or three months had made such 
progress that he was able to address rough-and- 
ready American working-men in their native tongue. 
His success as an orator was so pronounced that he 
was sent all over the country to arouse the patriot- 
ism of war workers. 



PUBLISHERS* NOTE 

When the armistice was signed and his war- 
time activities 'were over, the obvious thing for Paul 
to have done would have been to have resumed his 
musical career, but Paul had another vision. 

"I believe that Russia and America are the two 
greatest countries in the world," he declared, "and 
I have decided to devote the rest of my life to 
bringing them closer together. I love my music, 
but I love my Russia more!" 

He at once obtained a position in the Foreign 
Department of one of America's most important 
banking institutions, and to-day, at the age of seven- 
teen, he is in the Far East, engaged in establishing a 
branch bank for the organization he represents. 

In presenting the inspiring story of Paul Iogole- 
vitch — the boy violinist, the boy soldier, the boy 
orator, the boy patriot, and, above all, the boy 
idealist — the publishers wish to acknowledge the 
assistance of Mr. Godfrey M. Lebhar, who helped 
him to prepare his manuscript for publication. 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN 
CORPORAL 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN 
CORPORAL 



WHO SAID SLACKER? 

\ X J HEN the Great War broke out, the idea 
* * that I might play an active part in it 
never occurred to me. At any rate, if it did I 
certainly never gave it a moment's serious 
consideration. 

In the first place, I was only a boy. Secondly, 
I had a watchful father and a doting mother. 
Thirdly, and perhaps principally, I had a 
career. 

Somebody had discovered when I was about 
four years old that I had some musical talent, 
and my family had promptly decided that one 
more name — a very long and unwieldy name — 
was to be added to the long list of great mu- 
sicians that Russia had produced. 

From that time on, everything I had done, 
lil 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

every plan I had made, every step I had taken 
— almost every breath I had breathed — had 
been based upon the one thought that one day 
I was to be the world's greatest violinist! 

Thus, when I was eight years old, in order 
that I might enter the Imperial Conservatoire 
at St. Petersburg, my family had moved all 
the way from Harbin, Manchuria, a distance 
of nearly six thousand miles! We had been 
living at Harbin since the Russo-Japanese War, 
when my father, who was a doctor in the Russian 
army, was stationed in that vicinity. I had 
played before the great Prof. Leopold Auer, at 
the Conservatoire, and had impressed him to 
such an extent that I had been admitted as a 
student under the special care of his assistant, 
Professor Nalbandian. 

Certainly I did not imagine that a little 
thing like the war would be allowed to interfere 
with the program that I had been following so 
religiously ever since my infancy. Indeed, if 
any one had asked me, I should have said that 
about the last boy in all the world to be af- 
fected by a universal call to arms would be 
Paul Iogolevitch. 

It required only about four weeks after the 
Russian mobilization, however, to demonstrate 
that whether or not I might ever turn out to be 
the world's greatest violinist, no one could ever 
deny me the title of the world's poorest guesser. 

\n 



WHO SAID SLACKER? 

The Russian mobilization began July 31, 1 9 1 4. 
On that day I was still at a small place in 
Finland where I had been spending my summer 
vacation. I started for St. Petersburg at once, 
and three days after I got back my father left 
for the front, having been given a commission 
as major in the medical corps of the Twenty- 
fifth Tverskaia Drudgina, an infantry regiment 
stationed near Warsaw. 

The new term at the Conservatoire didn't 
begin until August 20th. Most of the students 
lived out of town and had not yet come to St. 
Petersburg, but some, of course, lived in the 
city. One of the latter was Sammy Finkel. 
Outside of myself, he was perhaps the youngest 
of the three thousand students at the Conserva- 
toire, and that fact had made us close chums. 
I met him on the Nevsky Prospect — the Broad- 
way of St. Petersburg — the day after I got to 
town. 

"Well, Sammy," I said, after we had ex- 
changed vacation experiences, " in a week or two 
now, I suppose, we'll be hard at it again, eh?" 

"Not me, Paul!" he replied, very positively. 
"I don't mind telling you that the Conserva- 
toire has seen the last of me. I'm going to 
enlist!" 

"Enlist!" I repeated, amazedly. "Why, 
you're only fifteen ! You couldn't if you wanted 
to. They won't take you, and, besides — " 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

" That's all right, Paul," interrupted Sammy. 
"I'll find a way. Did you see in the papers 
where the government doesn't expect much 
help from the Jews? Did you read where it 
said the Jews are slackers, Paul — that we are 
refusing to fight for Russia, and—" 

"That's a lie, Sammy!" I retorted. "My 
father didn't hesitate a moment, my cousins, too, 
have volunteered, and I know lots of other fel- 
lows who — " 

"Well, you'll know one more before the week 
is out!" And Sammy left me, with a look of 
determination on his face that was quite un- 
mistakable. 

As I turned back home I could not help 
thinking of Sammy's words: "The Jews are 
slackers" — "refusing to fight for Russia." 

I knew, of course, that Russia had treated our 
people shamefully in the past — although, because 
of my father's education and professional position, 
our own family had always enjoyed privileges 
which were denied others of our race — but surely 
this was no time to throw our grievances in 
Russia's face. Refusing to fight for Russia ! 

As for myself, I loved Russia with all the 
patriotic ardor that a boy can feel for his 
country. I had seen much more of it than the 
average Russian boy — more of it than the 
average American boy sees of the United States 
f — and Russia is nearly three times as big. J 

U) 



WHO SAID SLACKER? 

had lived in central Siberia — at Verchne Udinsk, 
on Lake Baikal, where I was born; in the Far 
East, at Harbin, Manchuria; and in the capital 
city of St. Petersburg. Besides that, however, 
there was hardly a section of the country — 
north, south, east, or west — that I had not 
visited in connection with my concert work. I 
started to play at concerts when I was nine, 
had been on a concert tour all through Russia 
and Siberia before I was eleven, and at twelve I 
had played in all the capitals of Europe. 

The more I had seen of other countries and 
peoples the more I had come to love my own. I 
loved Russia's mighty rivers, her endless forests, 
her fertile plains, her teeming mines, her bound- 
ing orchards, her gushing oil-fields, and her lof- 
ty mountains, and I loved the Russian people, 
whose hearts are as big as their country and 
whose minds are as simple and as guileless as 
their winter snows. I knew that in some re- 
spects Russia was far behind some of the other 
countries I had visited, but I loved her just as 
she was. Refuse to fight for Russia ! 

That night and the following day I read the 
newspapers closely. Sure enough, I ran across 
a paragraph here and an editorial there which 
pointedly questioned the patriotism of Russian 
Jews, just as Sammy had said, and it made the 
blood rush to my cheeks to read it. 

I decided to call on Sammy and talk it all 

is] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

over with him. On my way, I passed a sborni 
punct — a mobilization center. There was quite 
a crowd of men and women gathered outside, 
and in the center of one little group was a 
Russian cavalryman in full uniform. 

He was a big, blond, intelligent-looking fel- 
low, and, while only a private, he was not of the 
usual muzhik, or peasant, type. I could not 
help thinking what a bad time Germany was 
going to have if our army of eight million men 
included many like this powerful trooper. 

11 Lucky for Russia she doesn't depend upon 
the Jews to defend her!" he was saying as I 
approached. "I can tell you the Huns would 
be in St. Petersburg by this time if we had to 
depend on those slackers!" 

" You're right, soldier, you're quite right!" 
agreed a big, hulking fellow in civilian clothes 
who had stood with open mouth, listening to the 
speaker, and who now took off his cap and 
waved it. 

"It's a wonder you wouldn't do some fighting 
yourself!" I cried, stepping up to him and then, 
as he turned and swung at me, darting quickly 
out of his reach. 

This incident only served to emphasize what 
the newspapers were printing. It might not be 
true that the Jews were shirking their duty, but, 
at any rate, everybody seemed to think it was, 
and that was bad enough. 
"~ [6] 



WHO SAID SLACKER? 

I talked the matter over with my brother 
Boris. He was two years older than I, and 
he had a pretty level head. 

"I wouldn't worry about it at all, Paul," he 
said, reassuringly. "We're too young to get 
into this, anyway, and, besides, what do we care 
what the papers say? Haven't they always 
attacked us? If it isn't one thing it's another, 
and now, of course, it is only natural that they 
should cast slurs at our patriotism. Forget it!" 

I couldn't forget it. During the days that 
followed I thought of it more and more. When 
I went out I overheard conversations among 
people in the streets and between passengers in 
the street-cars, and when I stayed home I read 
the same false insinuations in the papers. 

Then the Conservatoire opened and I went to 
report. Every one was talking about the war. 
Reports of the successful invasion of East Prus- 
sia by our troops had come in and rilled us all 
with enthusiasm. Many of our students didn't 
show up. Others came in uniform — just to say 
good-by before joining their regiments. Still 
others were planning to leave within a week or 
two. 

Never in the course of my musical studies had 
I made a worse showing than I did those first few 
days of the term. No matter how hard I tried, 
I just could not keep my thoughts on my work. 
The teachers made allowances, of course, be- 

m 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

cause of the distraction of the times, but there 
were limits to their patience. 

One afternoon I was playing for Professor Nal- 
bandian. Other students were in the studio 
awaiting their turn, and peering through the 
glass partition which formed one of the walls 
of the room were still others who usually as- 
sembled when one of the big professors was 
giving instruction. 

I started off all right, but soon my thoughts 
wandered to Sammy, who had failed to show 
up, and who I figured must have carried out 
his intention to enlist. I was just picturing 
him in a trench with shrapnel exploding all 
around him when bang! crash! — something ex- 
ploded right at my elbow. 

It was the professor! Without any prelim- 
inary warning, he had arisen from his chair, 
grabbed the music I was supposed to be reading, 
and thrown it angrily out of the door, the 
music-stand crashing to the floor at the same 
time. 

It was just his polite way of saying to in- 
attentive students, "If you can't follow the 
music on the violin, follow it on your hands 
and knees!" 

As I stooped, shamefacedly, to pick up the 
scattered sheets I apologized to him, but he 
was too angry to notice me and beckoned for 
the next student to take my place at the music- 



WHO SAID SLACKER? 

stand, which the accompanist had replaced. 
I had seen the professor act in this way with 
other students, but this was the first time I 
had given him cause to treat me in that man- 
ner, and I felt very much ashamed of myself 
as I made my way out of the studio. 

This incident acted upon me as a dash of 
cold water upon the face of a fainting person. 
It brought me to my senses. Instantly I saw 
that my musical career, for the present, at any 
rate, was over. It was useless for me to attempt 
to continue my work when other things, which 
now seemed to me of far greater importance, 
were uppermost in my mind. There was only 
one thing for me to do, and I knew what it was. 

That night, when Boris and I were getting 
ready for bed, I started the subject again. 

"Why don't you enlist, Boris?" I asked. 

"Me enlist?" he repeated. "Me? I would 
in a minute, and you know it, only I'm too 
young." 

"Well, you're as old as Sammy Finkel, aren't 
you, and he's gone? Of course, if you tell them 
how old you are, they won't take you, but 
you don't have to tell them all you know. 
Boris, I'm going to try it myself!" 

" You, Paul!" he answered, satirically, "why, 
you must be crazy! After all the time you've 
devoted to your musical education and every- 
thing, you're going to give it all up? You a 

[9] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

soldier! Why, Paul, if they put you on sentry- 
go they'd have to send some one with you to 
hold your hand— you're even afraid to sleep 
alone, and you know it!" 

The latter charge was so near the truth that 
I had no answer to make, and I got into bed 
without another word. Ever since I had been 
an infant I had been afraid to sleep alone. In 
the days that were to come, during many a 
long and lonely vigil in the darkest of Russian 
nights, with German snipers all around me, I 
sometimes recalled this conversation with Boris 
— but that's getting ahead of my story. 

The next morning I had a serious talk with 
my mother. I told her I wanted to get into the 
fight for Russia, and I wanted her consent. 

My mother was not easily startled, but this 
entirely unexpected suggestion from me nearly 
took her off her feet. She would not give it a 
moment's consideration. I was entirely too 
young, it wasn't necessary, Russia didn't need 
boys, and last, but not least — my career! 

I argued and coaxed and fumed. I told her I 
realized what a lot I would be sacrificing if I 
left the Conservatoire, but I felt that I would 
be sacrificing more if I stayed. It did no good. 

"No, Pavlik," she answered, finally. "It is 
out of the question. You might as well give up 
the idea now once and for all." 

"Every one is saying that the Jews are trying 

[10] 



WHO SAID SLACKER? 

to get out of fighting," I pointed out. "When 
they are called to the colors, they try to get 
positions that will keep them out of the firing- 
line. It looks — " 

"Who's saying it, Pavlik? A lot of muzhiks 
who can neither read nor write, and a lot of 
chinovniki [petty officials], who think that the 
easiest way to earn promotion is to vent their 
spleen on the Jews and the peasant classes!" 

"No, mother, I've heard it from others — 
intelligent people," and I told her of the Russian 
cavalryman whom I had heard speaking at the 
sborni punct. " We've got to correct that notion, 
mother, and the only way those of us who are 
not called can do it is to volunteer, and that's 
what I want to do." 

"Well, I'll wire your father," she finally agreed, 
"but I can tell you now it will be useless." 

In due course word came back that in my 
father's opinion I would make a far better vio- 
linist than I ever could hope to be a soldier, and 
that, as Russia had all the soldiers she needed, 
I had better stick to the Conservatoire, because 
the world could never have too many great 
violinists. 

I did not let the matter rest there. Day after 
day I talked it all over with Boris, and at last 
I got him almost as enthusiastic as I was myself. 
One day he came into the house and told me he 
had a big surprise for me. 

[«] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

We went up to our room. 

"Paul," he whispered, "I've decided you're 
right. The thing for us to do is to enlist. Let's 
go!" 

I could hardly believe my ears. At once we 
began our preparations. We had only a few 
hours, as we soon decided to take the train that 
very night for Warsaw — a distance of some 
fifteen hundred miles and a three-day journey. 
I shall not go into that adventure at length 
because I have so many more to relate that 
worked out more successfully. This one proved 
a fizzle. 

Suffice it to say, we bought some uniforms, 
packed them into a bundle, and got away all 
right, and we were able to get our railway 
tickets without much difficulty, but after we 
had traveled all night the train stopped at one 
of the important stations, a couple of gendarmes 
entered, picked us out without hesitation, and, 
after asking us a few questions, sent us back 
home! We found out then that the fellow who 
had sold us the uniforms had afterward become 
scared and had called up my mother. A hasty 
wire to the authorities was all that had been 
necessary to nip our flight in the bud. 

Boris decided that he was through, but I 
became more determined than ever, and I told 
my mother that if she didn't help me to get 
into the army somehow I would do something 

[12] 



WHO SAID SLACKER? 

desperate. She must have seen I was in earnest, 
for she wired my father again, and this time, 
much to my surprise, she got the following 
answer : 

Bring Paul to me at once. We'll give him a taste of 
war and see how he likes it. — Major Iogolevitch. 

I didn't know exactly how to interpret this, 
and my doubts were materially increased when, 
on the day of our departure, my mother insisted 
that I take my violin with me. 

"What's the idea?" I protested. "Am I 
going to war or is it a concert tour?" 

I was so glad to be on my way to Warsaw 
without fear of being stopped and sent home, 
however, that I did not press my objections, 
and so I went to war with my mother in one 
hand and my violin in the other! Little did I 
think then what an important part a violin 
might play on occasion even in actual warfare. 

When we got to Warsaw my father disclosed 
that he had obtained permission from the Com- 
mander-in-chief of the Russian army for me to 
wear the uniform of a Russian soldier and to 
act as mounted messenger under his protection! 

My joy knew no bounds, and the three days 
that followed, which were spent in sight-seeing 
in Warsaw, were all too long. They came to 
an end at last and my mother returned to St. 
Petersburg, while my father and I went on to 
2 [13] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

camp. On the way my father explained that 
the only reason he had asked me to bring my 
violin was that I might provide amusement for 
his fellow-officers, in whose company I was to 
spend much time. 

I had to have' a uniform made specially for 
me, as the regular army clothing issued at 
camp was miles too big. I was glad of it when 
I saw the outfit my father had ordered. It 
made my eyes swim. 

There was a green coat, riding-breeches — 
with leather on the insides of the legs — high 
leather boots lined with fur, a white Persian- 
lamb fur hat, and a Sam Browne belt from 
which hung a Lady Browning revolver and a 
small sword! Besides this I was provided with 
a carbine, or short cavalry rifle of the regulation 
type. ^ 

Attired in his full uniform, the new mounted 
messenger of the Twenty-fifth Tverskaia Drud- 
gina must have looked like the Czar of all the 
Russias himself. Of this much I'm sure — he 
certainly felt like it. 



II 

FIRST BLOOD 

T^HE camp of the Twenty-fifth Tverskaia 
* Drudgina, to which I was attached as 
mounted messenger, was about five miles from 
Warsaw. It was a regiment of infantry re- 
serves from the town of Tver — "Drudgina" 
meaning "regiment," and "Tverskaia," "of 
Tver." 

During the first week I was given very little 
to do — in fact, the officers refused to take me 
seriously, and the men, because of the position 
my father occupied, did not treat me as I would 
have preferred to be treated and as would have 
been more befitting the lowly rank I occupied. 
I was only a messenger. I didn't want to be 
treated like an officer. 

Things were so unsatisfactory to me in this 
respect that I spoke to my father about it. 

"If you have tried to make things easy for 
me, father," I said, "you haven't done me any 
favor. I wanted to be treated like any other 
soldier." 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

He insisted that no special favors had been 
asked for me, and when, that same afternoon, 
the colonel's orderly handed me a packet to be 
carried to the brigade headquarters at Warsaw, 
I felt that perhaps my misgivings had been 
unwarranted. 

At any rate, I jumped on my horse and 
started off for Warsaw as proud as if I had been 
intrusted with a mission of life-and-death im- 
portance. Indeed, as I trotted along the much- 
traveled road between the camp and the city, 
I could not help regretting that there was no 
prospect of attack by hostile patrols and that 
I would have no chance to show how bitterly 
I would fight if the occasion arose. We were 
too far from the front for any such adventure, 
however, and about the only danger that could 
come to the packet which I had carefully placed 
in my inside pocket was that I might lose it, 
and to make sure that it was still secure I kept 
slapping the breast of my coat as I jogged along. 

I had gone about two miles when I heard the 
hoofs of a horse behind me, and I slowed up a 
little. As the rider approached I recognized 
in him one of the cavalrymen attached to the 
regiment. 

"Well, Ivanoff," I said, as he came abreast of 
me, "I suppose you're headed for Warsaw, too, 
eh?" 

"Yes," he replied. "That's the idea." And 
[16J 



FIRST BLOOD 

then, somewhat sulkily, he added, " I'm supposed 
to see that no one steals youi" 

I was so angry at the thought that my father 
had evidently felt it necessary to have me 
"chaperoned" that I dug my spurs into my 
horse's side and galloped off as fast as I could. 
I knew how to ride — my brother and I had each 
owned a pony when we were kids in Harbin — 
and before my "escort" had time to realize 
what had happened I was half a mile ahead of 
him. As I came to the outskirts of Warsaw, the 
traffic became so thick and there were so many 
children in the streets that I was forced to slow 
down and I was afraid I would be overtaken, 
but, fortunately, my "escort" encountered the 
same difficulties, and when I reached brigade 
headquarters I was alone. 

" I have here " — indicating my breast pocket — 
"important papers from the Twenty-fifth Tver- 
skaia Drudgina for his Excellence the brigadier- 
general," I declared, importantly, to the orderly 
on duty at headquarters. 

The orderly happened to be only a young fel- 
low himself, and he felt perhaps as important 
as I did. 

"Very well, hand them over, and — " 

"Hand them over, nothing," I interrupted. 
"I will hand them to his Excellence myself!" 

The orderly eyed me carefully from head to 
foot and then from foot to head — he did not 

[17] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

have far to go in either direction — and, not seeing 
any particular insignia about me to indicate 
superior rank, became very sarcastic. 

"Well, if you'll sit down a moment I'll let the 
general know right away that you are ready to 
receive him and he'll come right out!"- — and he 
saluted me in anything but a military manner 
and backed himself into an adjoining room. 

I had been sitting in the antechamber about 
five minutes when he reappeared. 

"The general's very sorry that he can't come 
out to see you," he said, "but, you see, he's 
allowed to walk only a certain distance each 
day, and he's already covered that for to-day, 
but if you will be good enough to follow me he 
will see you inside." 

I glared at him to show that I knew he was 
making fun of me, but followed him into the 
general's room. 

As I entered I came sharply to attention, 
clicking my heels together and saluting, and 
then I handed the general the packet. 

He tore it open, read the contents hastily, 
knitted his eyebrows, and then told me to wait 
outside again in the antechamber. 

Half an hour passed, during which time the 
orderly could hardly keep his eyes off me and I 
could hardly keep my hands off him. He 
smiled at me so much that finally I could not 
help blurting out: 

[18] 



FIRST BLOOD 

"You seem to be having plenty of fun in here, 
but if you'll come outside for a minute I'll show 
you something funnier," and that made him 
laugh outright. Then I got mad and started 
toward him. 

What might have happened to him — or to 
me — I don't know, for just then the door 
opened and the general himself came out, clad 
in his greatcoat, and ordered me to accompany 
him to his machine. 

"You are going home with me, Iogolevitch," 
he said, "to be my guest." 

I don't know who was the more surprised, I 
or the orderly, but as I saluted and turned to 
follow the general out of the room I got a glimpse 
of the most astounded young man I had ever 
seen in my life. He had been standing against 
a flat-top desk when the general came out, and 
when he heard me addressed by name and 
invited to the general's home he just fell forward, 
supporting the weight of his body on his bent 
fists, his lower jaw dropped, and his eyes fairly 
popped out of his head. 

But I was almost equally amazed. How did 
the general know my name? Why was he taking 
a mere mounted messenger as a guest to his 
home? 

I asked no questions, but my amazement 
increased when, at the house where the general 
was stopping, he introduced me on terms of 

[19] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

social equality to the rest of the party. There 
were about ten in all, including two very hand- 
some young ladies, three young officers, and the 
host and hostess. When the general referred 
to me as the "rising young violinist" I assumed 
that he must have heard of me in connection 
with my concert work, and I let it go at that. 

After supper I was asked to play the violin, an 
instrument being provided for me, and one of 
the young ladies accompanied me on the piano. 
The performance lasted until after midnight. 
Apart from the fact that it was necessary to 
keep the shades entirely drawn down so as not 
to let any light into the street, on account of 
possible air-raids, there was little to distin- 
guish this from an ordinary gathering in peace- 
times. 

In the morning the general directed me to 
return to camp. 

"Is there no answer, your Excellence," I 
ventured, "to the papers I brought you yes- 
terday?" 

"Papers?" he repeated, vaguely. "What pa- 
pers do you refer to, Iogolevitch? " 

"Why, the packet from the Twenty-fifth 
Tverskaia Drudgina." 

"Oh, that," he replied, indifferently. "That 
was merely a letter of introduction from your 
father telling me that you could play the violin 
and would be pleased to amuse us!" 

[20] 



FIRST BLOOD 

A letter of introduction! I don't know 
whether the general noticed my disappointment 
or not, but I was quite sure my father should 
know the state of my feelings when I saw 
him. 

"If I thought I got into the army just to 
amuse the officers," I declared, angrily, when I 
saw my father, "I would get out of it just as 
soon as I could. That wasn't what I gave up 
my career for! I want to do real army work, 
and if I am not going to be allowed to, the 
sooner I know it the better!" 

My father assured me that more important 
work lay ahead of me and cautioned me not to 
be too impatient. 

From that time on I did receive more im~ 
port ant assignments, the officers beginning to 
send me on errands of a military character as 
soon as I learned my way about. 

This continued for about two months, and 
then our regiment and the hospital force were 
ordered nearer to the front lines. 

I don't think I slept a wink the night before 
we were to start — I was so excited at the pros- 
pect of getting into action. We started early 
in the morning, about three o'clock. It was 
pitch-dark when we took the road. By this 
time I had been detailed as personal messenger 
to Colonel Yannaw, the commander of the 
regiment, and I rode right behind him at the 

[21] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

head of our entire regiment. The hospital unit, 
with which my father was connected, brought 
up the rear. 

It was very cold, but I didn't notice it at 
first. I didn't even notice that we got no 
breakfast. As the hours wore on, however, 
hunger, fatigue, and cold formed a combination 
which began to make itself felt. I heard an 
occasional complaint among the men, but I was 
determined to let none escape me. After all, 
one has to expect privations in the army, I 
argued to myself, and up to that time I had 
known none. Mine were to come in full meas- 
ure later. 

At last, early in the afternoon we received 
orders to rest, get out our kitchen, and eat din- 
ner. Never before had borsch (Russian soup) 
tasted so good to me, and the kasha (corn- 
meal), the black bread, and the veal were all 
infinitely better than any kasha, black bread, or 
veal I had tasted in all my life before. 

We soon resumed the march, and with our 
stomachs well lined we were in much brighter 
spirits, although, if a foreigner had heard us 
singing as we swung along the snow-bound roads, 
he would never have guessed how light-hearted 
we really felt, because the songs the Russian 
soldiers sing have the most mournful airs imag- 
inable and the words are seldom more than 
childish nonsense. 

[22] 



FIRST BLOOD 

What, for instance, could be more ridiculous 
than such lines as these: 

Three hamlets, two villages, 

Eight girls, I only, 

Where the girls go, there go I, 

Girls in the woods, I go with them, 

Girls out of the woods, I go with them, 

We converse. 

And yet there was no military song which was 
heard more frequently wherever Russian sol- 
diers congregated. 

But there was another song, which we never 
got tired of singing, and which had more, per- 
haps, to commend it. It was "Stenka Rei- 
zin." It told the story of Stenka Reizin, the 
Russian Robin Hood, a Don Cossack brigand 
of days gone by who had robbed the rich to feed 
the poor and whose memory, for that reason, 
had ever since been cherished by the down- 
trodden muzhiks. 

As the song goes, Stenka went on a maraud- 
ing exploit down the river Volga, and among the 
loot he brought back with him was a beautiful 
Persian princess. His prize aroused more jeal- 
ousy than enthusiasm among his savage fol- 
lowers. In fact, they soon showed very clearly 
that they didn't intend to play second riddle to 
their leader's beautiful captive. 

[23] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

Black looks and ugly mutterings greeted 
Stenka's command: 

"Why are you devils so downhearted? 
Dance, thou joker, Filka, dance! 
Come now, brothers, sing your loudest 
To her beauty, sing and prance!" 

There is" no response. The Don Cossack 
leader smells mutiny. A look of dismay comes 
over his features and he decides that his revelry 
has gone far enough. To retain the loyalty of 
his followers he resolves to sacrifice his prize, 
and he seizes his Persian beauty and throws her 
bodily into the river! 

"Volga, Volga, native mother, 
Volga, Volga, Russian river, 
Swallow now this living present 
From a liberal Cossack giver ! ' 

And so we marched along, singing, until we 
came to Ulinec. There I was directed by the 
colonel to find quarters for the staff, which I 
did after considerable difficulty, an old racing- 
stable formerly maintained by the Russian 
banker Berson being requisitioned for the pur- 
pose. 

We had been at Ulinec about a week when I 
was ordered by the colonel to get a rifle and 
two hundred bullets from the quartermaster 

[24] 



FIRST BLOOD 

and be ready at three o'clock to start on a jour- 
ney. At the appointed time I reported at the 
colonel's quarters, leading his horse by the reins. 
He appeared promptly and ordered me to fol- 
low him. We rode for an hour through the 
forest, the colonel continually consulting a map 
and telling me to watch our course carefully, as 
it would be necessary for me the next day to 
guide one of the companies of our regiment over 
the same route. 

We finally came to a clearing, where we left 
our horses and went walking around the hills, 
going through various openings in barbed-wire 
fences. The place seemed to me to be entirely 
uninhabited, but the colonel explained to me 
that right behind the fences were our reserve 
trenches, and, sure enough, as I approached near 
enough to see, what appeared to be a dead 
plain was veritably alive with men. There were 
hundreds of them quartered in the trenches. 

"The men here are not wasting their time, 
as you may think," the colonel pointed out. 
"The more time our men can spend here the 
more valuable this reserve line becomes, because 
the whole terrain in front of us is laid out like 
a checker-board and every day's calculations 
and gun-practice enable us more effectively to 
control each particular square." 

On the way back to Ulinec I made a second 
effort to observe the landmarks, and the next 

[25] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

day, when I was given a map and told to con- 
duct one of our detachments, under a young 
officer, to the reserve trenches, I felt sure, abso- 
lutely sure, that I knew the way. 

It wasn't until we had been traveling about 
twice as long as the march ought to have taken 
that I realized that we were lost! 

"Give me that map," the officer demanded, 
angrily, seeing my confusion. "We're about 
two hours late already. You'll have us back in 
Warsaw if we leave it to you much longer!" 

I had no answer and handed the map 
over to the officer. After studying it for several 
minutes and starting off once or twice in the 
wrong direction, we finally struck the right path 
and eventually landed at our destination — about 
five hours late! 

For the delay caused by my misdirection I 
was severely reprimanded by the commander 
in charge of the reserve trenches. For the next 
few days, every hour I had to myself I spent in 
the saddle familiarizing myself with the roads, 
determined that no such misfortune should ever 
occur again if I could help it. 

As I became more familiar with the map, I 
was again intrusted with missions to the reserve 
trenches, and soon I was attached to the trench 
command as messenger. 

I lived in the trenches for about a month. 
The experience was a valuable one. While it 

[26J 



FIRST BLOOD 

was well beyond the danger zone, it gave me a 
taste of military life in the open and hardened 
me considerably. 

It was bitterly cold down there in the officers' 
dugout where I was quartered. There was no 
door to the place, and the fire we built made 
little impression on the cold winds that invaded 
our quarters. The place was lined with fir- 
tree branches and it had a wonderfully pleasant 
aroma, but it certainly was cold. 

German airplanes flew over us almost daily, 
and that gave me a chance to practise pistol- 
and carbine-shooting, although in most cases 
the Hun machines were far beyond the range 
of my weapons. Outside of an occasional shell 
from a German long-range gun, little occurred 
during the next four weeks to disturb the regular 
routine into which my life had fallen. 

Then came word that the Germans were mak- 
ing a second big drive on Warsaw, and our 
medical unit was ordered to the front lines, 
where it was badly needed. My father did not 
want to leave me at Ulinec, and he was less 
inclined to take me with him, and so he suggested 
that I be transferred to Warsaw. I refused to go. 

"Here is a real opportunity for me to serve," 
I complained, "and you want me to quit! I 
know the roads now: I might be a real help to 
your contingent on its way to the front. I want 
to go with you!" 

[27] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

After considerable argument, that was the 
way it was arranged. My father asked the 
colonel to transfer me to the medical unit as my 
father's body-guard and guide, and his request 
was granted. 

We started in a motor-car for Blonie and 
arrived there without incident. From there our 
plan was to make Sochaczef , on the Bzura River. 
We had not gone far, however, when we en- 
countered increasing numbers of retiring Rus- 
sian soldiers and transports. The roads became 
so congested that we could make little headway. 
Suddenly German shrapnel began to burst above 
us and we realized that the enemy was nearer 
than we had imagined. A big grenade struck 
fifty yards from our car, and the thin black 
column of smoke that rose from the ground 
looked like a geyser. 

It was no fun. Sitting in a slow-moving 
motor-car with shrapnel bursting all around you 
has little to commend it. I was scared stiff, 
but I kept my mouth shut and tried not to 
show how scared I really was. 

' ' I thought our troops were still in possession 
of Sochaczef," our chauffeur declared to one of 
the soldiers who was passing our car. "That's 
eighteen miles from here, isn't it?" 

"Yes," was the answer, "but we were told 
to evacuate it, and if you don't turn back you'll 
pretty quick find out why!" 

[28] 



FIRST BLOOD 

According to another soldier we hailed, our 
troops were still in possession of Sochaczef, and 
he was at a loss to account for the shrapnel and 
the retreating soldiers. 

We decided to proceed until we could get an 
intelligent idea of the exact situation, but we 
had gone only about five miles more when the 
fire became so intense that we instructed the 
chauffeur to turn back without further delay. 
In trying to turn the car he got stuck in the 
ditch, and while he was struggling with his 
steering-wheel a shell burst right above us and 
showered us with pieces of steel. 

I turned quickly to see whether my father 
had been hit, and then I saw one of the physi- 
cians who had been sitting in the back of the 
car throw up his hands and fall forward, his 
head covered with blood. The physician next 
to him was also wounded, his right arm having 
been almost severed at the elbow by a piece of 
flying shell. My father was apparently un- 
touched, but suffered from the shock. 

As for myself, I was untouched, I thought. 
My left hand was clutched in the hand of the 
chauffeur, who had grasped it with his wheel, 
and his grip was so tight that my wrist was 
bleeding. Then I became aware of a sharp 
pain in my shoulder, and, tearing open my coat 
to examine it, a piece of shrapnel which had 
penetrated the flesh just above the collar-bone 

3 [29] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

fell to the floor of the car. It was not a very 
deep wound, but was bleeding freely. I closed 
my coat quickly, as I did not want to alarm my 
father. 

My father and the chauffeur seemed to be 
stunned. I shouted at them, and, the German 
shelling abating for a moment, I finally made 
myself heard and brought them to. We de- 
cided to abandon the car and, summoning help, 
lifted out the wounded doctors and carried them 
to a Red Cross ambulance which was trying to 
worm its way through the retiring soldiers. 

Then I suggested that my father, the chauffeur, 
and I try to make our way through the woods 
and thereby get more quickly out of range of 
the German shells which were again beginning 
to burst all around us. 

For five miles we continued through the 
woods in the direction of Warsaw. All the time 
I was trying to conceal my wound from my father. 
The blood had oozed through my coat and was 
freezing on me, and when my father finally noticed 
it I said it came from the wounded doctors. 

Suddenly I heard rifle-shots, and almost si- 
multaneously two Russian cavalrymen darted 
by us and told us to hide as quickly as we could. 

"There's a German cavalry patrol not a mile 
behind us!" they shouted. 

Before we could make up our minds what to 
do the Germans were upon us. 

[30] 



FIRST BLOOD 

In my hand was my father's revolver. The 
leading German was not twenty feet from us 
and had raised his saber, when bang! bang! I 
had fired two shots in quick succession. I saw 
the horse rear high in the air, and then the 
Hun threw up his hands convulsively. The 
next moment his body was hanging lifeless from 
the saddle. 

Almost simultaneously the chauffeur started 
blazing away, and the second and third men 
fell. I fired the remaining shots in my gun, 
but I don't know what at — the German patrol 
was gone! All that was left was a prancing 
horse, striving frantically to free itself from the 
reins which had become entangled around its 
legs and were still held in the deathly grip of 
its former rider, and two other Germans who 
lay quite still among the trees, their horses hav- 
ing freed themselves and galloped away. 

The whole thing happened so quickly that 
I had not had a real chance to get frightened, but 
my father clasped me to his breast and said some 
nice things to me, and then he shook the chauf- 
feur's hand and told him that his presence of 
mind would be promptly reported to the com- 
mander of the outfit. 

Finally we got on to the main road again, and 
the soldiers we met informed us that the Ger- 
man drive had been definitely stopped. 

When we got back to Ulinec I had one of the 

[31] 




SAW THE HORSE REAR HIGH IN THE AIR, AND THEN THE 
HUN THREW UP HIS HANDS CONVULSIVELY 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

men fix up my shoulder, and I turned in as soon 
as I could get away from the rest of the fellows, 
who made me tell over and over again all about 
the fight we had had. 

In the morning my shoulder had swollen so 
much that my shirt wouldn't close, and I could 
conceal my wound no longer. My father was 
summoned and examined it and then he painted 
it all around with iodine, which made it smart 
unbearably. I bit my lips, determined not to 
utter a whimper, and perhaps I was helped in 
that by a recollection which came to me then of 
an incident I had witnessed at a military post 
at Handow-hadze, near Harbin, where, as a kid 
of seven, I had been taken by my father, who 
had to inspect the medical department there. 

I was hanging around the place, waiting for 
my father to get through with a group of officers 
who were all going over some records, when I 
noticed a soldier walk in and stand outside the 
group. 

His coat was thrown over his shoulders, his 
face was haggard, and I noticed blood on his 
boots, but he did not seem to be injured. 

He must have stood patiently there for a 
minute and a half before my father happened 
to turn around and, noticing him, asked him 
what it was he wanted. 

For an answer he threw off the coat which 
enveloped his shoulders and laid down on the 

[34] 



FIRST BLOOD 

table in front of the doctors his severed left 
arm! It had been cut off just below the elbow 
by a train, he explained. He had stopped the 
flow of blood by binding his belt around the 
arm. Despite all the anguish he must have 
been suffering and the shock his system must 
have sustained, he had calmly and quietly wan- 
dered into the doctor's office and waited patient- 
ly with his uncanny burden until my father 
had happened to give him attention ! 

What was my suffering compared with that? 
I asked myself, and it made it easier for me to 
bear the pain. 

Nevertheless, I was sent to the hospital and 
they kept me there a week, and then I received 
the unwelcome tidings that I was to be sent 
home! There was no use rebelling this time. 
My father pointed out that he himself had been 
put temporarily on the reserve list on account 
of the shell-shock he had sustained, and as the 
order under which I had been admitted into the 
army provided specifically that I could serve 
only with my father, there was nothing more to 
be done. Before I left the colonel shook my 
hand and told me that he was presenting my 
name for a decoration for bravery and self- 
control. 

The next day we started for Warsaw. We 
stayed there two days. Before we left I re- 
ceived a paper stating that I had been pro- 

[35] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

moted to the rank of corporal and that I was 
honorably discharged from the army on account 
of my wound. 

This was the beginning of February, 191 5. I 
had been in the army less than six months. 

As we traveled back to Petrograd, ,my father 
and I, I wondered whether the sacrifice I had 
made in giving up my musical career had really 
been worth while. What had I accomplished 
for Russia? How had my humble participa- 
tion in the war helped in even the slightest 
degree to remove the slurs which had been cast 
at Jewish patriotism? 

A copy of a Petrograd newspaper which the 
newsboys brought into the train at Vilna gave 
me the answer. 

There, on the front page, was my picture, and, 
above it, glaring head-lines declared: 

RUSSIA'S YOUNGEST HERO A JEW! 



Ill 

A LEAP IN THE DARK 

TT took us three days to get back to Petrograd. 
* In those early days of the war wounded sol- 
diers returned from the front were more or less 
a novelty, and the welcome my father and I 
received upon our arrival home was so vigorous 
that it took us off our feet. I attended more 
parties, lunches, dinners, and receptions that 
first week after our return than I had been to in 
any six months before. I began to think that 
I was about the most important boy in Petro- 
grad, and what tickled my vanity more than 
anything else, I suppose, was the fact that the 
girls I knew seemed to think a whole lot more of 
me in uniform than they ever did when I was 
just "the boy violinist." 

As soon as I could get away from my family 
long enough I spent a day at the Conserva- 
toire visiting my professors and former fellow- 
students. 

As I was leaving I ran into a fellow named 
Gavril Kapustin, and we got talking about some 

[37] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

of the boys who had gone to the front. Gavril 
himself was so near-sighted that he was quite 
ineligible, or I am sure he would have been one 
of the first to have volunteered. 

"Has any one heard from Sammy Finkel?" 
I asked. 

"Why, you can hear from him yourself, if 
you want to, Paul. He's here." 

"Here!" I repeated. "What on earth is he 
doing at the Conservatoire? Did he lose his 
nerve r 

"No! No! He's over there!" Gavril re- 
plied, sadly, pointing in the direction of the 
Conservatoire infirmary. "Lose his nerve! I 
should say not! He was one of the bravest in 
his regiment. They say he feared nothing, and 
several times risked his life in No Man's Land in 
efforts to save his comrades. One night, while 
on duty in the trenches, his feet were so badly 
frost-bitten that they had to be amputated — ■ 
and so you'll find him over there" — again point- 
ing to the infirmary. "He will be glad to see 
you, Paul." 

I lost no time in getting across the campus to 
the infirmary, but there they told me that Sammy 
was wheeling himself around the park in a wheel- 
chair, and after wandering around a bit I met 
him. Poor, poor fellow! The tears came to 
my eyes and a big lump came up in my throat 
as I recognized him coming toward me. He 

[38] 



A LEAP IN THE DARK 

looked very pale and run-down and that made 
his black eyes flash even more brightly than 
they were accustomed to do. On his breast 
was a medal. 

I couldn't say a word, but Sammy was less 
affected. 

"Hello, Paul!" he greeted, cheerily. "What 
brings you back?" And then we went fully 
into all the experiences we had had, and Sammy's 
story made all my adventures seem like child's 
play. 

"You're a lucky fellow, Paul," he declared, 
as I wheeled him back to the infirmary; "you've 
got another chance. I'm all through!" 

"But my father insists that I have had 
enough of fighting and — " 

"Don't you believe it!" interrupted Sammy, 
turning around in his chair and shaking his fin- 
ger in front of his face vehemently as he spoke; 
"no one has had enough of fighting in a time like 
this as long as he is still able to fight some 
more. As long as a fellow can fight and his 
country needs him and everything, I think he 
ought to drop everything else and fight! I just 
wish I could go back, that's all!" 

I promised to see Sammy again very soon, 
which I did. In the mean while, my father was 
ordered to Vitebsk, as head of the medical 
examining board there, but before he went he 
advised me to give up any notion I might have 

[39] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

of getting back into the army and to go back to 
the Conservatoire instead. 

Within a week or two I received through 
the provost-marshal in Petrograd a medal which 
had been awarded me by the Empress of Russia. 
It hung on a ribbon of orange and black, the 
colors of the Order of St. George, and it bore 
the inscription, "For Bravery." 

Following my father's advice, although it was 
much against my personal inclination, I dis- 
carded my uniform, donned civilian clothes, 
and went back to the Conservatoire. My civil 
life lasted, however, only a few weeks. 

In April came word that the Russian forces 
were suffering reverses. After our tremendous 
successes in Galicia, our capture of the fortress 
of Przemysl, our victorious campaign in the 
Carpathians, and our second invasion of East 
Prussia, the Hun lines had stiffened, superior 
leadership and strategy had outgeneraled us, 
and now the Huns were sweeping our armies 
before them as easily as we had dispersed theirs. 

Again the newspapers began to belittle the 
part the Jews were playing in the war. Indeed, 
some of them went so far as to say that the 
reverses our armies were suffering were due 
to the treachery of Jews in the ranks who were 
betraying their comrades. 

It did not take me very long this time to 
make up my mind where my duty lay. My 

[40] 



A LEAP IN THE DARK 

mother knew what was in my mind, but she 
would do nothing to help me get into the army 
again, and so I decided to try it on my own 
account. My former experience, my medal, and 
the fact that I now ranked as a corporal were 
factors in my favor, but my age and the fact 
that I had been discharged from the army were 
against me. 

At the Warsaw station in Petrograd, from 
which the troop-trains left for the front, I found 
it almost impossible to make any headway — 
having neither a uniform nor special permission 
to cross the tracks. 

As I hung around the tracks, wondering how 
I could possibly get aboard one of the trains, 
I was approached by an ofBcer. 

"Which track does troop-train No. 5 leave 
from?" he demanded, as I greeted him. 

"Why, that is the train that I am going on," 
I replied, quickly -recognizing my opportunity. 
"I'm sure it leaves from one of the left tracks. 
Will the officer accompany me?" 

He indicated his consent, and with him at my 
side it was a simple matter to get by the gen- 
darmes. 

When we got over to the set of tracks on the 
left I pointed out a train several tracks away 
and told him that that was track No. 5, and as 
he left me I jumped aboard a freight-car attached 
to a train which was just starting on my right. 

[41] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

In the car were several cavalrymen, eight 
horses, and a lot of saddles and hay. I ex- 
plained my plight to the soldiers, showed them 
my medal, and pleaded with them to let me 
ride in the car with them. They promptly as- 
sured me that they had not the slightest objec- 
tion, and invited me to join them in the tea and 
bread which they had just prepared, which I 
did. 

We were soon all very good friends, and when 
we were approaching our first stopping-place the 
men advised me to jump into the hay and cover 
myself up, in case the car should be entered by 
any of the authorities. Transportation room 
was so valuable at that time that every precau- 
tion was taken to prevent unauthorized people 
from "stealing" a ride — even in a freight-car. 

All day long we traveled without incident, 
but the following morning a gendarme entered 
our car and made a rather careful survey of the 
individuals in it, and the nearer we approached 
Vilna the more frequent these inspections be- 
came. The co-operation of the soldiers invaria- 
bly did the trick for me, however. In fact, they 
got so proficient in concealing me that the in- 
spections gave me no concern. As we ap- 
proached an important station I would jump 
into the hay and the soldiers would cover me 
with saddles, and so I would remain until the 
train was well on its way again, 

[4*1 



A LEAP IN THE DARK 

At Vilna, however, instead of a gendarme, an 
officer entered the car and behind him was the 
general of the whole division! Instantly the 
men jumped to attention, while I remained, as 
motionless as I could, on the floor of the car, 
beneath a pile of hay and saddles. 

"We're searching for a boy wearing a medal 
and answering to the name of Paul Iogolevitch ! ' ' 
the officer stated quickly, glancing at a telegram 
he had in his hand. I could see him through my 
camouflage. ' ' Have any of you men seen him? ' ' 

It seemed like an hour before their answer 
came, and then almost as one man they an- 
swered, "No, sir, we have seen no such boy 
during the whole trip from Petrograd!" 

I breathed such a sigh of relief that some of 
the saddles on top of me shifted and I was 
afraid for a moment the whole collection would 
come toppling to the floor and attract the of- 
ficers' attention. 

"This boy is missing from his home. The 
local authorities inform us that he boarded this 
very train. If any of you men know anything 
about it and are trying to shield him, I warn 
you now that you will be court-martialed and it 
will go hard with you if you don't give me the 
facts now!" 

There was no answer, and the officers turned 
to leave. At the door they stopped, and once 
again the officer spoke: 

[43] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

"I'll give you men one more warning. If 
any of you have seen this boy, speak up now 
or suffer the consequences!" 

My mind had been working very quickly. If 
the men stuck to their story in order to save me, 
and I was discovered afterward despite their 
loyalty, they would be most severely punished. 
If, on the other hand, I were to give myself up 
now and declare that the men knew nothing of 
my presence in the car, while my whole plan 
would be shattered, these big-hearted muzhiks 
would not suffer for their kindness to me. 

Breaking through the load of saddlery, I 
jumped to my feet and came to attention before 
the astonished and angry officers. 

"Who are you?" the junior officer demanded, 
angrily. "And what were you doing under that 
hay ? " If I had been a German spy caught red- 
handed in an attempt to blow up the Czar's 
palace, instead of just a Russian boy trying hard 
to break into the army, the general could not 
have glared at me more threateningly. 

"I am Paul Iogolevitch, your Excellence!" I 
answered, meekly, addressing the general. "I 
have been hiding in the far corner of the car 
behind the horses for two days : these men knew 
no more about my being there than did your 
Excellence." 

"Never mind these men. Their case will be 
attended to later. Why didn't you come out in 

[44] 



A LEAP IN THE DARK 

the first place when you heard your name men- 
tioned? Iogolevitch, you are under arrest!" 
And he turned toward the door of the car, called 
a soldier, and directed him to take me to the 
gendarmerie. I was marched off without a 
chance to say good-by to the men who had done 
their best to help me or to say a word in their 
defense if they were indeed haled before a court 
martial, and I felt very badly about it. 

I was kept under guard all day, being taken 
to a near-by restaurant for meals, and when 
night came I was taken aboard a train that was 
leaving for Petrograd. In the baggage-car to 
which I was consigned were four baggagemen 
besides the gendarme who had me in charge. 

It did not take me long to make friends with 
the baggagemen, and I believe the gendarme 
himself felt sorry for me when he heard what 
my offense consisted of. The medal I wore had 
led them to ask me questions, and when I told 
them how my desire to get back to the fighting- 
line had been frustrated by a lot of foolish gen- 
darmes who had evidently received notice that 
I was missing from home and felt that it was 
necessary to send me back at all costs despite 
the object I had in mind, they all expressed 
their complete sympathy with me. When the 
gendarme's back was turned the baggagemen 
promised that if the opportunity came they 
would assist me to get away. 

i [ 45 I 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

I had not really thought of trying to escape, 
but it was so hot in the car from the steam heat 
that the door had been left open, and it would 
not have been a very difficult matter to have 
gotten out. As we approached a station or 
slowed down the gendarme was alert enough to 
station himself at the door, although I don't 
believe he imagined I had any idea of escaping. 

We had been rumbling along for about an 
hour when it suddenly occurred to me that if I 
was going to escape, the sooner I accomplished 
it the better it would be for me, because the 
farther we got away from Vilna the greater the 
distance I would have to travel in my effort 
to get to the front. 

Telling the baggagemen that I was going to 
take a nap, I went over to one of the corners 
of the car and lay down. I had been lying 
there only a few minutes when I overheard a 
spirited argument going on between the men and 
the gendarme over some unimportant subject, 
and I got the idea that they were merely trying 
to divert his attention from me to give me an 
opportunity to escape — if that were my inten- 
tion. 

Carefully I edged my way to the open door. 
The train was going not more than fifteen miles 
an hour, but outside it was pitch-dark and I had 
not the slightest idea what I might jump into if 
ever I could get up the courage to make the leap. 

[46] 



A LEAP IN THE DARK 

I got to within three feet of the door without 
attracting the gendarme's attention. The train 
did not seem to be going particularly fast, the 
gendarme was not paying the slightest attention 
to me, thinking, no doubt, that I had fallen 
asleep, the open door beckoned to me, and 
without a moment's further hesitation I got to 
my knees, crawled to the door, stood erect for a 
brief second, and jumped out into the darkness! 



IV 

I CAPTURE A GENERAL 

AS soon as my feet touched the ground it 
** seemed to jump up and hit me in the head. 
Over and over again I rolled and I did not seem 
to be able to stop myself, and then I landed 
plump up against a fence. If that fence hadn't 
been there, I think I would have been rolling 
still. 

For a moment or two I lay still. I was afraid 
even to try to move my arms or legs, for fear of 
finding that I had been badly injured. When 
I finally did take an inventory of myself I found 
that all I had was a sprained ankle, a fine col- 
lection of bruises and scratches, and a deep- 
rooted grievance against the man who selected 
the stones for that road-bed. He must have 
spent a lifetime picking out the ones with the 
sharpest edges. 

I decided to get away from the track as fast 
as I could, feeling that as soon as the gendarme 
discovered my escape he would give the alarm 
and, perhaps, have the train stopped to search 

[48] 



I CAPTURE A GENERAL 

for me. About a mile away I could see some 
lights, and I limped my way toward them. 

At the first little hut I came to, an old woman 
opened the door after I had knocked several 
times. 

"What do you want, you little devil?" she 
demanded, angrily, as she held up a candle and 
got a glimpse of perhaps the most disreputable- 
looking young man her eyes had ever beheld. 
I was cut and scratched and covered with dirt 
and gravel. 

"I want to come in and clean myself. I had 
a bad fall. And then I want to get to Vilna," I 
replied, showing her a ruble. 

"Vilna! It is twenty-five miles from here. 
You can come in, but you will have to take the 
train to Vilna," and then she called out a name 
and an old man, evidently her husband, came 
clattering through from a rear room, where he 
had been sleeping. 

When I was cleaned up as well as their primi- 
tive facilities made possible I succeeded, after 
much argument, in getting the old man to wake 
up one of his neighbors, who had a horse and 
wagon, and bargained with him to make the 
trip at once. 

We drove all night. It was eight o'clock 
when we reached the city the next morning. 
The cost of the trip left me with but a few dollars. 
I bought breakfast at a cheap restaurant, and 

[ 49 J 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

then I went over to the station where the troop- 
trains were going out. 

There were hundreds of freight-cars loaded 
with ammunition, food, and troops standing 
along the reserve tracks, waiting for their turn 
to come to start for the front. One train 
seemed just about to start, and to a group of 
cavalrymen who were squatting on the floor 
of One of the cars I told my story as briefly as 
I could. 

They grasped the situation quickly and then 
they grasped me by the hands and pulled me 
up to them. They were just as sympathetic 
as my former traveling companions had been — 
I wondered if all cavalrymen were so big-hearted 
— and they told me to go over to one corner of the 
car and make myself at home — with the horses. 

It was nearly three hours before the train 
finally started, and just before it got under way 
a young officer jumped aboard and declared 
that he was going to honor us with his company 
as far as the next station we stopped at, which 
he said would be about three hours later. As I 
was fairly covered by a pile of saddles, which 
seemed to grow heavier every minute, I did not 
relish the idea of having to remain in that con- 
dition for three hours — even for the honor of 
traveling with an officer — but I was afraid to 
reveal my presence to him, and decided to 
stick it out. 

[50] 



I CAPTURE A GENERAL 

My discomfort was increased very shortly by 
a restlessness which developed among the horses. 
They started to fight! Their hind legs began 
striking out in all directions. I was entirely 
neutral, but that didn't save me; on the contrary, 
I seemed to draw the fire of all the belligerents, 
as neutrals usually do. But for the saddles, 
which, of course, received the first force of the 
horses' blows, I should very soon have been 
pounded to death. 

As it was I was pretty badly bruised, and on 
several occasions I was on the point of calling 
out for assistance. It was better, I figured, to 
be sent back alive than to continue my journey 
dead! But the soldiers, evidently realizing my 
predicament, quickly got after the restive ani- 
mals and succeeded eventually in restoring ami- 
cable relations among them. An hour and a 
half later we stopped at a station which had 
possibly not entered into the officer's calculations, 
and he left the car. I was brought out by the 
soldiers and anxiously examined. I was so 
covered with dirt they were not quite sure at 
first I was the same boy they had stowed away, 
but when I was brushed off it was not difficult 
for me to establish my identity, and they were 
much relieved to find that I had not suffered as 
badly as they had feared. They gave me some 
tea and food, and I soon felt much better. 

At Orany the soldiers disembarked and were 
[51] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

ordered to transfer their baggage and "equipment 
to some heavy motor-lorries which were on hand 
for that purpose. One of the men bundled me 
up in an old horse blanket, tied me around with 
ropes, and swung me over his shoulder, deposit- 
ing me, not too gently, at the side of one of the 
lorries. When the coast was clear he loosened 
the ropes and gave me a nudge to come out. 

I did not wait to say good-by to my good 
friends, but made off as quickly as possible for 
the main street of the little town, which was 
bustling with military activity. Cavalry, artil- 
lery, and infantry, with all their paraphernalia, 
filled the street, and there was so much noise 
that I felt comparatively safe — safer than I had 
felt for a week. 

The warm gloves I had had when I left home 
had disappeared, and I went into a small store 
to buy a pair. It was bitterly cold. The mer- 
chant seemed to be a kindly fellow and I did not 
hesitate to tell him my story. 

"Young man," he said, in a kindly way, "I am 
going to do what I can to help you. There's a 
cavalry regiment in town now and I know the 
commander. I will see him to-day or to-morrow 
and I will speak to him about you." 

I thanked him a thousand times, and asked 
him whether I could increase my indebtedness 
to him to the extent of a uniform. 

"Yes, yes. I'll trust you. I'll fix up a uni- 
[52] 



I CAPTURE A GENERAL 

versity student's overcoat for you. I have one 
in stock. Come back this afternoon and we will 
see what we can do." 

That afternoon I returned to the store ac- 
cordingly, and in very short order I came out 
attired in a regular student's overcoat which 
fitted me well and made me look so much older 
that I no longer had any fear that I would be 
rejected on account of my youth. 

Two days later the merchant took me to divi- 
sion headquarters and presented me to the gen- 
eral. 

"How old are you, Iogolevitch?" the general 
asked, after I had given him a few facts regard- 
ing my former army experience. 

"Eighteen, sir!" I replied, but the blush that 
came to my cheeks revealed at once that I was 
lying, and, under the sharp gaze of the officer, 
I could not stick to it. 

"Seventeen, I should say," I stumbled. 

"How old are you, Iogolevitch?" he repeated, 
firmly, as though he had heard neither my first 
nor my second answer. 

"Fourteen, sir," I replied, unable longer to 
lie; "that is, I will be fourteen in December." 

Then I showed him some newspaper clippings, 
my discharge papers, and the paper which my 
father had received from the main headquarters 
of the Russian army granting me permission to 
serve as his messenger. 

[53] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

"I have heard, your Excellence," I hastened to 
say, fearing that he was going to decide against 
me, "that no man who wants to serve his country 
will be turned down if he appeals to you. I 
really did not mean to lie about my age, but I 
wanted to get into the army so very much 
that—" 

"I'm going to give you a chance, Iogolevitch," 
he replied, getting up and shaking my hand. 
"I'm going to write your father to get his con- 
sent, but in the mean while I will take the 
responsibility upon myself. If you really want 
to serve, we'll put you in the regimental 
kitchen, as the cook's assistant. How will 
that do?" 

"I am very grateful," I replied. "I am anx- 
ious to serve in any capacity," for, although I 
could not see much glory in kitchen work, I had 
a suspicion that the general Was only trying me 
out, and I wanted to show him that I knew that 
a soldier's first duty is to obey orders, and obey 
willingly. 

My theory did not work out, however, for 
into the kitchen I went and there I stayed, and 
there was no play about the work the cook 
made me do, either. It had one compensa- 
tion, though — in the kitchen we saw to it that 
we didn't get the Worst of the food that we had 
to prepare. 

The next day I was called into the general's 
[54] 



I CAPTURE A GENERAL 

quarters and asked for my father's address. I 
gave him an address of six months ago, which 
had since been changed. I hoped that, with the 
imperfect telegraph system prevailing in Russia, 
my father would never receive the general's 
message and that, in the mean time, the condi- 
tions under which I had been taken into the 
regiment might be forgotten. 

That was another theory that didn't work out, 
as I discovered when, a week after I had been 
installed as cook's assistant, I was again sum- 
moned before the general. 

"Iogolevitch," he said, "no word has come 
from your father. It is a week since I wired. I 
am afraid I shall have to let you go ! " 

"Will your Excellence give me two days 
more?" I pleaded. "Perhaps the answer will 
come by that time." I had no idea that the 
two days — or two years, for that matter — 
would make any difference so far as word from 
my father was concerned, but I figured that the 
delay could not possibly do me any harm, while 
something might develop that would help me 
out of the difficulty. 

It did. The general said he would wait two 
days more, and I went back to my kitchen. As 
I sat there despondently looking out of the 
window and wondering if it could be half as 
hard to get out of the Russian army as it was to 
get into it, I noticed a machine stop in front of 

[S5l 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

the place. A lieutenant jumped out, but his 
saber caught in the door and he did not seem to 
be able to extricate it. 

I ran out to help him. 

"Paul!" he cried, as I approached him, "what 
on earth are you doing here? " 

I was so surprised to be called by name by an 
officer whom I did not recognize that I almost 
forgot to salute him, but I recovered my pres- 
ence of mind quickly and came to attention, and 
as I did so I recognized in the officer an old 
friend of my father's. 

In a few words I told him of my experiences 
and my present status. 

"We'll fix that for you in no time, Paul," he 
declared, optimistically, and then, with a smile, 
he added, "I know the general slightly!" 

When we got to the general's quarters he 
walked right into the inner office without even 
knocking on the door, and then, to my surprise, 
greeted his superior familiarly as "Uncle"! For 
a moment or two they carried on a whispered 
conversation, and then I was told to go back to 
my quarters. 

That night the lieutenant came to me with a 
violin he had procured, and said he had arranged 
to have me play in the officers' mess. 

"Do your very best, Paul," he suggested. 
"The general's very susceptible to music, and 
I think you can get anything you want out of 

[56] 



I CAPTURE A GENERAL 

him if you win him to-night. Play the Ber- 
ceuse, by Jarnfeld. If you play it as well as 
you did when I heard you at a concert in Petro- 
grad, I think the general will be ready to turn 
the division over to you!" 

"I'll be satisfied if he just keeps me in one of 
his regiments, lieutenant!" I answered, "and 
you may be sure I'll do the very best I can." 

During the evening meal I was ordered to 
the officers' mess and invited to play. The 
violin was not the very best I had played on, but 
I played it for all I was worth, and I aimed 
directly at the general. 

When it was all over — they kept me at it for 
nearly two hours — the general came toward 
me and shook my hand. From the expres- 
sion on his face I felt that I had captured 
him. 

"Iogolevitch," he said, "I am very much 
obliged to you for the entertainment you have 
given us. Now what would you like me to do 
for you?" 

"Put me in one of your cavalry regiments, 
your Excellence," I answered. "I know of no 
way in which you could make me happier." 

He seemed about to demur, but his nephew, 
the lieutenant, whispered a few words to him, 
and he said he would see what he could do for 
me in the morning, and as I left the mess-room 
the lieutenant came behind me and whispered: 

[57] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

"It's all right, Paul. He's going to keep you 
with us." 

I slept little that night. I felt that my im- 
mediate purpose had been gained, and I thanked 
God for the talent with which He had endowed 
me and which was proving valuable to me in 
such an unexpected direction. 

In the course of the few hours of sleep I did 
snatch I dreamed that I was in the Russian 
trenches in East Prussia, and when it came my 
turn to relieve Sammy Finkel on watch, instead 
of a rifle, he handed me a violin and a bow ! The 
instrument was covered with ice, and icicles were 
hanging from the bow, but when I started to 
scrape it across the strings music came. As I 
played at the parapet of the trench to the accom- 
paniment of rifle, machine-gun, and artillery 
fire I saw three figures suddenly arise from the 
Hun trenches before me and, with hands up- 
raised, come toward me. As they reached the 
parapet I recognized the leader as the Kaiser, 
behind him was von Hindenburg, and bringing 
up the rear was von Mackensen ! 

I was so startled I dropped my bow, and the 
figures turned away from me. I stooped and 
picked up my bow and went on playing, and 
again they advanced toward me* I played 
more vigorously than before and they quickened 
their steps! In a moment they would be right 
in our trenches, and then — bang! Something 

158) 



I CAPTURE A GENERAL 

had snapped. It was a board which the cook 
had swung across my back. 

"Get up, you good-for-nothing fiddler!" he 
was yelling, good-naturedly. "The general's 
orderly is here. You are to report at head- 
quarters at once!" 



V 



I JOIN THE "FIGHTING THIRD DRAGOONS " 



WHEN I got to the general's quarters — and 
I didn't lose any time getting around there 
— he was at breakfast, but his orderly told me to 
go right in. 

"Sit down, Iogolevitch," he invited, as he 
poured a cup of tea from a steaming samovar, 
"and tell me which of my regiments you would 
like to join." 

There was one Cossack, one Uhlan, one Hus- 
sar, and one Dragoon regiment composing the 
division. The Russian boy has a high regard 
for all Russian cavalry organizations — and tak- 
ing horsemen by and large the world over, I 
don't suppose it would be possible to find 
another million to equal the million serving in 
the Russian army in 19 14 — but down in his 
heart he feels that the Cossack is supreme. 
There is no trick in riding the Cossack does not 
know, no privation he is not willing to endure, 
no fight too hard for him to undertake, no 
odds great enough to make him waver. 

f 60 1 



THE "FIGHTING THIRD DRAGOONS" 

"I'd like to join the Cossacks," I answered, 
smiling to indicate that I realized my wish was 
preposterous, although I did consider myself a 
good rider and thought that possibly I might 
develop my ability, in that direction sufficiently 
to be worthy of riding with the Cossacks. 

"Very well, Iogolevitch, the Cossacks it shall 
be," the general answered. "Report at once 
to the essaul (the Cossack name for colonel) — 
Essaul Homutov, and I will telephone him in the 
mean while concerning you." 

I hastened to the essauVs quarters, where 
my pedigree was taken down by the company 
clerk and I was assigned to the second ssotnia — 
meaning hundred — as the Cossack squadron is 
called, and turned over to the sergeant. I was 
still wearing my sailor-suit under the student's 
overcoat which I had procured from the Orany 
merchant, and I was anxious to don the uniform 
of dark-blue trousers with red stripes and khaki 
coat which the Cossacks were wearing. 

"Where do I get my uniform?" I asked one 
of the men. 

"Uniform? Why, in a Cossack regiment a 
man is supposed to supply his own uniform, his 
own horse and saddle, and his own saber. All 
the government gives us is a rifle and ammu- 
nition." 

At the colonel's quarters, where I went to 
explain my predicament regarding a uniform and 
5 [ 61 ] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

equipment, the general's orderly had just de- 
livered a package. 

"The regiment has been ordered to the front 
at once," he confided to me. "You certainly 
are in luck." 

It was more than half an hour before the colo- 
nel would see me, the general's message having 
been followed by a natural burst of activity. 
One officer after another was summoned before 
the colonel, remained closeted with him for a 
moment or two, came out smiling all over, and 
departed briskly to prepare, undoubtedly, for 
the move to the front which had been ordered. 

"I'm sorry, Iogolevitch," the colonel replied, 
hastily, to my appeal for equipment, "but I 
really don't know what I can do for you. We 
have been ordered to the front ! I haven 't 
enough horses for the regiment as it is. Realty, 
you'll have to equip yourself the best way you 
can and join the regiment later!" 

"Have I the colonel's permission to take the 
matter up with the general?" I asked, not want- 
ing to get into trouble by going over my com- 
mander's head. 

"Yes, yes. Do anything you like." 

At the general's quarters I ran into his nephew, 
the lieutenant. 

"I wouldn't bother any more with that Cos- 
sack outfit," he suggested. "What's the mat- 
ter with the Third Dragoons? Now I come to 

[62] 



THE "FIGHTING THIRD DRAGOONS" 

think of it, there are one or two fellows in that 
regiment, volunteers, who would make excel- 
lent chums for you. In the first company, for 
instance, there's Stanislav Nedzvegski, a won- 
derful singer, and one of the most popular men 
in the division. I'll speak to the general about 
it at once. Come back in half an hour and I'll 
let you know if it can be fixed." 

Within two hours my transfer had been 
arranged, I had been accepted as a member of 
the Third Dragoons and assigned to the first 
company of the first squadron — a squadron to 
which, I was informed, only men who had been 
decorated for bravery were assigned — and half an 
hour later I was shaking hands with Stanislav 
Nedzvegski, a tall, blond cavalryman, with blue 
eyes and a comical expression about his mouth 
which revealed at once the secret of the popu- 
larity which the man seemed to enjoy. 

Stanislav — they called him Stassie in the regi- 
ment — had been on a short furlough, and he 
started at once to tell us some of his adventures. 
He told them so funnily that he soon had us all 
convulsed in laughter, and every now and then 
he interpolated a rhyme or two which he im- 
provised as he went along. He seemed to have 
a wonderful talent in that direction, and as he 
had a good singing voice he frequently burst 
into song, improvising the lines to familiar airs. 

"And now," he declared, as he finished the 
[63] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

story of his furlough, "the next order of busi- 
ness, I suppose, is the initiation of Paul Iogole- 
vitch," and then, without a moment's reflection, 
he sang some lines to the following effect : 

"When duty calls us to ths front 
We go with songs and laughter. 
We're called the ' Fighting Third Dragoons,' 
We get what we go after. 

"So when you join the Third Dragoons 
Prepared to join our laughter, 
Remember, Paul, our business is 
To get what we go after ! " 

Perhaps the last line was a signal. At any 
rate, what the Dragoons went after just then 
was me, and they certainly got me. My feet 
went from under me and the next moment I was 
hanging head down from a beam in the ceiling. 
The men, about ten in number, then formed a 
circle and started marching around me, each 
one letting me know he was present by slamming 
me on the back as he passed. Then I was 
taken down and thrown around the room like 
a medicine-ball. Some of the men were better 
throwers than they were catchers, and they 
let me slip through their arms and land heavily 
on the floor. 

I knew I was expected to take everything that 
came to me in good part, and I didn't protest 

[64] 



THE "FIGHTING THIRD DRAGOONS" 

or resist. They soon got tired of the man- 
handling they were giving me and left the hut 
in which the company was quartered and in 
which the initiation was taking place, locking 
the door as they went. 

"Stay here till we come back for you," was 
Stassie's parting word. As I felt bruised all 
over, I was glad enough to be let alone and 
hoped they would forget to come back at all. 

As it was, however, they were back again in 
perhaps twenty minutes, and then I was led to 
another hut some two hundred yards away. 
They didn't take me inside, but through the 
open door I could see a big fire burning. It had 
been built on the ground — the hut had no floor 
— and one of the soldiers was feeding it. Big 
stones were all around it. 

I was ordered to undress. It was bitterly 
cold, and there was snow all around us, but there 
was nothing for me to do but comply. The 
blazing fire in the hut was too far away to help 
me; on the contrary, it only made the ground 
and air seem colder by contrast. It was so cold 
that I had to jump from foot to foot as I disrobed 
to keep from freezing. My Siberian blood was 
not unaccustomed to low temperatures, but 
never before had I been compelled to bare my 
body to the winter air in this fashion, and I 
shivered and shook like a half -drowned dog who 
has broken through the ice of a frozen pond 

[65] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

and has finally managed to struggle back to dry 
land. The goose-flesh stood out all over me 
like a nutmeg-grater. 

After I was stripped they kept me in the open 
for a moment or two while they conversed 
among themselves and pretended that they were 
paying not the slightest attention to me. Then 
they took me over to the shanty, shoved me in 
and closed the door. The place was small, 
not more than eight feet square, but the heat was 
intense, and I pressed myself up against the 
farthest wall to get as far away as I could from 
that fiery bonfire. Then through a small win- 
dow they threw pail after pail of water — not 
on me, but on the hot stones around the fire. 
The effect was appalling ; the little room became 
filled with hot steam. I felt that I was going 
to be boiled alive! Through the steam I could 
see the burning logs, and I kept as far away from 
them as I could. After a while they let me out 
into the open air while the fire was replenished, 
and then I was thrust back again and put 
through the same ordeal. I don't know which 
was the worst, the cold outside or the fearful 
heat inside, although they gave me enough 
opportunities to judge. 

At length they tired of this form of torture 
and for a change threw me into a tub of water 
which was so cold that I don't know how they 
kept it from freezing. Every time I attempted 

[66] 



THE ''FIGHTING THIRD DRAGOONS" 

to get out, which I did almost instinctively, 
they threw me back, and I finally stayed where 
I was put. 

The cold bath was followed by a massage 
such as only Russian soldiers can give. Perhaps 
it saved my life ; but while it was going on I had 
no idea that that was its purpose. Every one 
of them seemed to hit me at once. 

"And now, Paul Iogolevitch," declared Stas- 
sie, who had acted as master of ceremonies, 
"you may dress yourself and we will consider 
your application for membership in the best 
company of the best squadron of the best regi- 
ment in the best army in the world!" 

I knew, by the smile on his face as he spoke, 
that he was only kidding and that I had already 
been accepted, and I thanked the company for 
the honor thay had done me and expressed the 
hope that they would not regret it. 

"One minute, Iogolevitch," interrupted Stas- 
sie, after I had shaken hands all around, "don't 
forget you're only a ' plain ' member of the com- 
pany now; to become an 'honorable' member it 
is necessary now to go through the initiation 
ordeal again. Are you ready?" 

"Not on your life, Stassie," I replied, appre- 
ciating the evident fact that he was joking. 
"A 'plain' member is honor enough for me. 
I'll become an 'honorable' member some other 
time and, preferably, in some other way." 

[67] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

"Very well, just as you say, Paul," he replied. 
"And now you are privileged to call me by my 
first name." 

I answered that I would rather call him by 
some other name, but I would wait until I had 
fully recovered from the "initiation" before I 
applied it. 

In the evening the porutchik (lieutenant) of 
our company, a man named Panunsev, a typical 
Russian cavalryman, hard as nails and stern of 
visage, said he would give me a try-out. I was 
given a horse, which I afterward christened 
Wania, and put through a few cavalry exercises. 
I was so stiff from the manhandling I had re- 
ceived that afternoon that I don't know how I 
was able to go through with it, but I did. Pa- 
nunsev told me I had done wretchedly, but one 
of the men told me that he usually meant the 
opposite of what he said, and from the encourag- 
ing way he had patted me on the shoulder as he 
instructed me to take care of the horse and then 
turn in, led me to think that the man was right. 

The next day we learned that the Third 
Dragoons was to leave for the front at four the 
following morning. Our whole organization im- 
mediately became alive with bustling activity. 
Despite the excitement, I was able to get enough 
equipment from the quartermaster and from 
members of the regiment, who were kind enough 
to help me out, to make some sort of an appear- 

[68] 



THE "FIGHTING THIRD DRAGOONS" 

ance — what sort of an appearance I could judge 
from the smiles my appearance invariably pro- 
duced wherever I went. Nothing fitted me. 
My hat was so big it slipped over my eyes. I 
could turn around inside my shoes, but I filled 
them with paper and that made them half-way 
serviceable. All the overcoats offered me were 
impossible, and I decided to wear my sailor-suit 
under my uniform instead. It served two pur- 
poses: it provided me with additional warmth 
and it helped fill out the uniform. 

My equipment consisted of a saber, a gun, 
a lance, and a belt of bullets. The saber was 
so long — or I was so short — that it dragged 
on the ground. We were supposed to carry 
only two hundred bullets. I was so ambitious 
I asked for four hundred! They weighed like 
four thousand. 

When the call to assembly came the next 
morning I carried my lance in my right hand and 
with my left led my horse to the spot where we 
were to fall in. 

Stassie nearly collapsed with laughter when 
he saw me. 

"Good Lord! Paul," he declared, between 
convulsions, "throw that lance away. You'll 
kill more Russians than you will Germans with 
it! Anyway, don't come within a mile of me, 
that's all I tell you!" 

As it happened, however, it was right next to 
[69] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

Stassie that the porutchik ordered me to take my 
position. 

"Stassie will take care of you on the march, 
Iogolevitch," he ordered. "Stick to him." 

As we stood in line, unmounted, four abreast, 
Wania, my horse, started to get nervous and 
jump around. If my shoes hadn't been so big, 
I think my feet would have been crushed a dozen 
times. As it was, Wania's hoofs landed most of 
the time on my excess shoe and missed my toes. 

We stood in line a few minutes, and then the 
order came, "Mount!" 

The company leaped to the saddle as one 
man — except me. I made a frantic effort to 
do the same thing, but the weight of my equip- 
ment just anchored me to the ground. It was 
like trying to swim attired in a heavy overcoat. 
I looked appealingly at Stanislav, but he had 
turned his head the other way. 

Again I tried, but still I couldn't make it, 
and then while I was still struggling to mount 
the order came, ' ' March ! ' ' 

Gathering all my strength, I sprang again to 
the saddle, and this time I made it, but lo! in 
the attempt I let go my lance and in trying to 
save it I fell off the horse ! 

The men behind me cursed — I had broken up 
their formation. The next moment somebody's 
strong hand had grabbed me by the neck and 
lifted me bodily across my horse, and I quickly 

[70] 



yi 




THE NEXT MOMENT SOMEBODY S STRONG HAND HAD GRABBED ME 
BY THE NECK 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

found my stirrups. I don't know who my 
kind friend was, but it wasn't Stassie. He was 
shaking so with laughter that I half expected 
him to fall out of his saddle, and I wished he 
would. The officers, who were riding ahead of 
us, I was glad to see, pretended not to have 
noticed my fiasco. 

For an hour or two we marched along without 
incident. Then we dismounted and got our 
breakfast. When the time came to resume I 
saw to it that Wania was standing near a slight 
rising in the ground, and I was able to mount 
without difficulty, a small piece of leather which 
I had attached to my stirrup and which formed 
a sort of extension helping me considerably. 

Except when we stopped for meals we were 
on the march most of the day. At night we 
broke alinement and trotted along more or less 
at will. At one point we came to an encamp- 
ment where thousands of soldiers were sitting 
around bonfires. It made a wonderful picture 
in the black Russian night, the flares from the 
bonfires not only lighting up the soldiers' faces, 
but occasionally revealing an artillery wagon or 
a motor-lorry traversing the winding roads. The 
men were singing. From almost every direc- 
tion I heard the familiar strains of: 

' Three hamlets, two villages 
Eight girls, I only — " 
[72] 



THE "FIGHTING THIRD DRAGOONS" 

and the other military songs which our men 
never seem to get tired of singing. 

I was so entranced with the picturesqueness 
of the scene that before I was aware of it my 
company got far ahead of me, and soon I real- 
ized that I was alone. I galloped ahead, but 
did not overtake my companions. I shouted 
"Stanislav!" and a dozen voices answered me 
from around the fires, but there came no answer 
from my comrade. 

Meeting a cavalryman coming from the oppo- 
site direction, I asked him whether he had 
passed my company, and he said that some com- 
pany, perhaps mine, had turned off to the left a 
quarter of a mile farther on and were entraining. 

When I turned to the left as directed I landed 
in a thick bog. Wania could make no headway, 
and I jumped off to try to lead her out of the 
mud. I stuck in it so fast, myself, that I was 
afraid I would lose my boots. 

In this dilemma I was just about convinced 
that I would never be able to catch up with my 
company, when I heard a horseman coming in 
my direction and I shouted to him. It was 
Stassie. He had been sent back to look for me. 
With his help I and my horse finally got out of 
the bog, and we galloped back to the regiment. 

Stanislav was silent for a moment or two, and 
then suddenly he broke out with a verse to the 
following effect: 

[73] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

"He heard his country calling, 
A call to stir the blood, 
He yelled aloud, ' I'm coming,' 
But his feet were fast in mud ! 
Tra-la, tra-la, tra-la, 
Tra-la, tra-la, la-lee." 

When we pulled up at the railway tracks we 
found our company engaged in leading their 
horses up inclined planks into the freight-cars. 
Every one's horse seemed to go up the runways 
willingly enough except Wania. She wouldn't 
budge. We tried various schemes, but without 
effect, which provoked Stassie to sing out : 

"You cannot blame poor Wania, 
She is a wise old pony, 
The freight-car has no charms for her, 
She feels she is too bony ! 
Tra-la, tra-la, tra-la, 
Tra-la, tra-la, la-lee." 

And then he took my horse by the head, 
rubbed his own against her face, whispered 
something in the animal's ear, pointed to the 
door, and the next moment, to our surprise, 
Wania bolted up the incline so eagerly that 
one might have thought we had been holding 
her back! 

We followed our horses into the cars at once 
and an hour or two later the train started. We 

[74] 



THE "FIGHTING THIRD DRAGOONS" 

traveled for two days without incident, living 
on canned food, and disembarked at Keidany, 
a little town near Kovno, in Lithuania. 

There we took possession of the estate of a 
Lithuanian noble, a wonderful place, and the 
officers occupied the mansion, while we found 
quarters in the smaller houses. The stables 
provided the best quarters for our horses that 
they had had in a long while. 

At the first opportunity we took a stroll around 
the little town of Keidany. It showed very 
plainly the effects of German artillery fire and 
air-raids. Numbers of buildings were in ruins 
and most of the stores were closed up. 

Some of the inhabitants told us that two weeks 
before the Huns had come within a mile or two 
of the town and they had prepared for the 
worst, and then something had happened and 
the foe had retreated. Later we met some 
infantrymen who told us that they had par- 
ticipated in the defense of the line. They had 
stopped the Huns, but their forces had not 
been strong enough to drive the enemy back. 
"That's what you're here for, I suppose!" he 
added. 

The prospect of actual fighting at last pleased 
all of us. That was what we were in the army 
for, and that, it turned out, was what we were 
about to have. 

[75] 



VI 

DEAD MAN'S SHOES 

THE next morning our division started off 
again. We made a wonderful picture when 
we were in line. There were four cavalry regi- 
ments, the light artillery, the machine-gun corps, 
the heavy batteries, aviation corps, and the 
food transports, and, bringing up the rear, was 
the hospital unit. 

I often looked back, hoping to get an idea of 
what a whole division looked like when on the 
march, but the winding roads usually cut my 
view short. Once, however, when we had trav- 
ersed a particularly long stretch of straight 
roadway which climbed a hill I turned my head 
as we reached the summit, and got a view of the 
whole division, and it thrilled me all through. 
"I pity the poor Huns who run foul of this 
outfit," I said to myself. 

We had traveled about eight miles when the 
division stopped and Porutchik Panunsev, our 
company commander, acquainted us with the 
fact that our particular squadron was going on 

[76] 



DEAD MAN'S SHOES 

ahead on patrol work. It was to be our duty 
to feel the way for the rest of the forces 
in the drive that was to be made against the 
Huns. 

After we had formed in companies we were 
ordered to load our rifles and revolvers and be 
ready for combat. 

Everything was done without excitement, but 
I could tell from the tense atmosphere that per- 
vaded officers and men alike that we were apt at 
any moment to be in action, and I cannot say 
that the prospect left me unperturbed. 

Two of our men were ordered to advance half 
a mile, two more a quarter of a mile, one was 
sent off into the woods to the right, and another 
was sent over to the woods on the left, while 
several soldiers were ordered to follow us at a 
quarter of a mile and half a mile respectively. 
I congratulated myself that I was left with the 
main body. 

In that formation we advanced, Stassie ex- 
plaining to me why the men had been deployed 
as I have described, but the object, of course, 
was obvious. 

We proceeded in this fashion for about two 
hours, riding slowly and cautiously. The weather 
changed suddenly. A terrible cold wind sprang 
up and went right through us. Without an 
overcoat I felt it very severely and my teeth 
were soon chattering — although whether the cold 

6 [77] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

was entirely to blame for that I would not like 
to say. 

"Better take my coat, Paul," offered Stassie. 
' ' You're shivering ! ' ' 

"No, Stassie, I'll be all right in a little while. 
I've got another suit under my uniform, you 
know. It is awful c-c-cold, b-b-but it's no 
w-w-w-worse for me than it is for the other 
f-f-f-fellows!" 

Then Stassie started telling us anecdotes to 
make us forget the cold and relieve the strain 
which, as the faces of most of the men showed, 
we all felt. The idea that at any moment we 
might run into a withering machine-gun fire, 
which the enemy would naturally hold until we 
were well within range, was anything but in- 
spiriting. Even with our advance-guards to 
warn us of danger, it was possible that we 
might be allowed to march right into a trap, 
and I suppose we were all aware of it, although 
none of us mentioned it. 

In this frame of mind we showed little appre- 
ciation of Stassie's "funny stuff," and, notic- 
ing our depression, Captain Solntsef ordered 
some of the men who could sing to get together 
and give us a song. Stassie and three or four 
others accordingly rode up and started a lively 
melody. It was cut short by three shots, one 
after another, followed by the sound of horses 
galloping directly toward us. 

[78] 



DEAD MAN'S SHOES 

We sought cover in the forest which lined the 
road on either side of us, unslung our rifles, 
which we carried across our backs, and awaited 
developments. 

A moment later we recognized our advance- 
guard coming toward us, and Captain Solntsef 
galloped forward to meet them. 

A blast from the captain's whistle was a signal 
for Panunsev to send a few men forward. He 
chose three, including Stassie, and after they 
joined the captain they all proceeded down the 
road, and I lost sight of them. 

The rest of us were ordered to form a circle 
two deep, the men with lances making the outer 
ring and the others, with drawn sabers, forming 
the inner one. In this position we stood for a 
few minutes. My mouth was dry and I trem- 
bled considerably. Perhaps it was from the cold. 
At any rate, the suspense was more nerve-racking 
than actual fighting would have been. If the 
Huns were coming at us, why didn't they come? 

From the distance came the sound of irregular 
rifle-firing and then the captain and the rest of 
the men came galloping toward us, with two 
extra horses — one riderless and the other bearing 
a soldier whose coat was bloody and who, by his 
helmet, I recognized to be a German. 

The sight of a German prisoner stirred me 
and I was rather surprised that the rest of our 
men showed no enthusiasm — as though captur- 
es] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

ing German soldiers was an every-day occur- 
rence to them. 

" Iogolevitch, you speak German, don't you?" 
the captain asked. 

"Yes, captain." 

"Ask this man his name, regiment, and what 
brought him here." 

I put the questions as directed, but the pris- 
oner refused to give his name or regiment, and 
I obtained them from papers in his pockets, 
which the captain had directed me to search. 

"What brought you here?" I demanded, 
sternly. 

"The Russian soldiers!" he answered, face- 
tiously. 

I translated his answer to my commander, 
who, seeing that we could get nothing of value 
out of him, called two soldiers and ordered them 
to take the prisoner and the extra horse back to 
our main forces. Among his papers was a scout 
map, which indicated that he had been on patrol 
duty the same as we were, and I could not help 
thinking that this patrol work was pretty risky 
business. 

We proceeded a little more cautiously, doub- 
ling our guards in each direction, as we were 
certain that the patrol we had run into, part of 
which had escaped, indicated that the Germans 
were in force somewhere in the vicinity. 

In the afternoon we came to an open plain 
[80] 



DEAD MAN'S SHOES 

near the village of Eragola, where we were sup- 
posed to camp until morning and wait for our 
main forces. 

Our company was ordered to proceed to the 
village, the rest of the squadron following at a 
distance, a line of communication between our 
company and the squadron being maintained 
by means of men stationed at distances of a 
quarter of a mile. 

The road was wider here, and we formed our 
company of thirty men in two lines, the lancers 
forming the front rank and the others the rear. 
Our sergeant, a short, sturdy Caucasian named 
Demetri Pirov, was sent ahead, Stassie was 
posted a quarter of a mile to the right, and I 
was detailed as Panunsev's messenger. 

About midway between the plain, where we 
had left our squadron, and Eragola we met a 
peasant with a horse and cart. 

"The Germans are at Eragola!" he shrieked. 
"Their cavalry arrived this morning — they 
turned us out of our houses — they made us dig 
trenches — they are preparing for more soldiers 
to come to-night! You will be outnumbered; 
you better turn back!" 

Without comment Panunsev ordered us to 
proceed, and we trotted along. On our left 
there was a ravine, on the other side of which 
was a hut. Our left guard was ordered to ap- 
proach it and look it over. 

[81] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

He reached the ravine and was just about to 
cross it when there came a shot from the hut 
and he fell from his horse, his lance falling from 
his hand and his arms hanging limp at his sides. 
As he fell he yelled frantically. We were about 
to run to him, when we recognized his apparent 
cry of pain to be: "Stop! Keep away!" 

Panunsev ordered us to close up into mass for- 
mation, so that, from a distance, we could not 
be distinguished individually, and then he di- 
rected three of our men to dismount, leaving 
their horses in the mass, and crawl along the 
ground toward our fallen comrade. As the men 
started on their mission of rescue the rest of us, 
with the three horses, were ordered to gallop 
off, as though we had decided to abandon our 
fallen left guard. 

When we had covered quite a distance and 
reached a hill we were halted, and Panunsev 
took his field-glasses to the top of the hill to 
observe the work of our rescue-party. As his 
messenger I dismounted and accompanied him. 

With my naked eye I could see several specks 
emerge from the hut, advance toward the ravine 
on the other side of which lay our wounded com- 
rade, and then I noticed some more specks come 
out from behind some haystacks which we had 
not been able to see before because the hut had 
obscured them. 

I saw them descend the ravine and then I 
[82] 



DEAD MAN'S SHOES 

lost them. A moment or two later one of them 
reappeared on our side of the ravine, and then 
I saw a flash come from his rifle. Almost si- 
multaneously something flew toward his head — 
it looked like a gun — and he toppled over back- 
ward into the ravine. 

His place was immediately taken by two 
others, who promptly dropped to the earth — 
whether they had been shot or were merely 
seeking cover I could not see. 

"Now, Iogolevitch, we'll go for them!" Pa- 
nunsev declared, running down the hill, mount- 
ing his horse, and ordering us to follow him. 

With shouts and cheers we flew down the road 
and never stopped until we reached the ravine. 
There we found the two Germans whom I had 
seen fall, but who had not been hit, in the 
hands of our rescue-party. In the ravine we 
found our left guard's horse. He himself was 
uninjured — he had dropped from his horse at 
the first shot merely as a ruse. There, too, we 
found the body of the first Hun who had fallen. 
He was dead. 

The two prisoners, tied to their horses, and 
the third horse were then sent back to our divi- 
sion under guard of one soldier and we pro- 
ceeded on to Eragola. 

When we reached the outskirts of the village 
two of our men were sent ahead to secure what- 
ever information they could, but they returned 

[83] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

very soon and reported that they could not get 
near enough to the village to learn anything 
worth while without showing themselves, and 
they had not been fortunate enough to meet 
any of the villagers. 

"We have with us, porutchik," suggested 
Stassie, "a young soldier who, underneath his 
uniform, wears a sailor-suit. Let him take off 
his uniform, forget for the moment that he is 
a soldier, and walk boldly into Eragola as a 
civilian. Could anything be simpler?" 

"That's a good idea, Stassie," responded Pa- 
nunsev. "How about it, Iogolevitch? " 

For answer I tore off my blouse and got out 
of my trousers and was ready to proceed. It 
was easy enough to start off, with my whole 
squadron looking on, but as I got farther and 
farther away from them and nearer and nearer 
to the village which I knew was occupied by the 
enemy my heart beat fast. My errand was a 
dangerous one, despite Stassie's rose-colored 
prospect. 

I had ripped my suit here and there to make 
it look old and worn, and the wind penetrated 
my clothing so easily that I shivered with the 
cold, but the excitement of my adventure made 
me oblivious to the discomfort of it. 

Near the village I met an old Jew with a 
long beard, and with a sigh of relief, figuring 
that I could perhaps learn from him all it was 

[8 4 ] 



DEAD MAN'S SHOES 

necessary for me to find out, I stopped him and 
asked him the news. He was stone-deaf! He 
took me by the arm and, turning back in the 
direction of the village, he conducted me to his 




"WHAT WAS THE MEANING OF THE THREE HORSES I NOTICED NOT 
FAR FROM HERE?" 



home, a little hut, probably imagining that I was 
looking for a lodging. 

Just before we came to this hut I noticed 
several horses tied to a post. Little flags flew 
from the tops of the lances which had been left 
with the horses, but the riders, who I imagined 

[85] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

must be German soldiers, were nowhere to be 
seen. Farther on I saw more horses, but we 
did not encounter any soldiers. 

In the hut was a young girl, the old man's 
daughter. I told her that I had just come in 
from one of the neighboring towns and was 
hungry, and she became very friendly and 
brought me some bread to eat. 

"What was the meaning of the three horses 
I noticed not far from here?" I asked her. 
"They were tied to a post and there were three 
lances with little flags at their heads? Are our 
troops in Eragola?" 

"Why, don't you know? It's the Germans! 
They are in the village! They arrived this 
morning. All day long they made the men dig 
the trenches — everybody in the village except 
some of the Jews who could speak German, 
whom they used as interpreters to convey their 
orders to the rest. They told us that there 
would be many German soldiers here by to- 
night, and they kept us hard at work so we 
would have the trenches ready for them. I just 
wish some of our soldiers would get here first!" 

"Perhaps they will!" I answered, and then, 
without telling her who I was — which under the 
circumstances I thought would be foolhardy — ■ 
I thanked her for her kindness, and retraced my 
steps as fast as I could. I had heard enough. 

I reported promptly to Porutchik Panunsev, 
[86 1 



DEAD MAN'S SHOES 

and by the time I had gotten into my uniform 
again the order was given to us to start for the 
village at once. We galloped down the road, 
and as we entered the village we were greeted 
with a volley of shots from the German cavalry- 
men, who had observed our approach and who 
had hastily mounted. We returned their fire, 
and they turned and fled — evidently unaware 
of the fact that we were but a handful. 

Entering the village, Panunsev posted guards 
all around the place. We took possession of 
the Polish church and used its tower as an 
observation post. I was assigned to take care 
of the horses and secure food for them — which 
reminded me that but for the crust of bread 
the Jewish girl had given me I hadn't eaten 
all day. At one of the houses where I saw a 
light burning, near the stable, I got something 
to eat, for which I paid as much as I could 
spare, and then I went back to the horses and, 
lying down in the dirt, fell asleep. 

I had been sleeping about an hour when I was 
aware of somebody shaking me and shouting in 
my ear. 

"Get up, Paul, will you? The sergeant's out- 
side, I tell you!" It was Sergey Wolinski, one 
of our men. 

I pulled myself together, but could hardly get 
to my feet, my head seemed so heavy from 
fatigue and cold. 

[87] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

"Come now, Iogolevitch!" Sergeant Pirov 
ordered, as he entered the stable. "You are 
to relieve Stassie." Then he told me how to 
get to the spot where Stassie was posted, and 
I started off. 

"Better take your gun with you, bonehead! 
You may need it!" Pirov commented, observ- 
ing that I left it lying where I had laid it when 
I fell asleep. 

I walked to the place the sergeant had indi- 
cated, but Stassie was nowhere to be seen. I 
hunted for him in the woods, but it was more 
than half an hour before I found him. 

"It's a wonder you wouldn't wait till morn- 
ing, Paul!" he complained. "I've been on duty 
here for four hours and I'm ready to drop. 
Now then, get a move on you, will you?" He 
could see that I was still only half awake, and 
before he could leave me it was necessary for 
him to take me over the post I was to cover 
and give me all the instructions that I was sup- 
posed to follow. 

"There's only one thing more, Paul!" he con- 
cluded. "Being found asleep on post is the 
worst crime a soldier can commit. If the porut- 
chik catches you, he may order me to shoot 
you cold. Now be a good fellow, Paul, and 
keep awake, will you? I don't want any shoot- 
ing practice to-night; I want to sleep!" Prod- 
ding me in the stomach with the butt of his 

[88 J 



DEAD MAN'S SHOES 

rifle, he made off through the woods and I was 
left alone. 

It was pitch-dark. I couldn't see three feet 
ahead of me. In the stillness of the night the 
slightest rustling of the trees was magnified a 
thousand times. After a few minutes I became 
more accustomed to the darkness, and was able 
to pace up and down without walking into trees 
or tripping over the underbrush. The exercise 
aroused me. When I felt I was sufficiently 
awake to take care of myself I found a nice 
place in the shrubbery and decided to lie down 
and use it as a listening-post. Sentry duty in 
such a spot as this was a case of listening more 
than watching, anyhow, and I could hear better 
lying down than when I was pacing to and 
fro. As I strained my ears for strange sounds 
the silence seemed to become more pronounced. 
Time and time again, as a twig would break or 
a bird would flutter from one tree to another, I 
felt sure that some one was advancing, and I 
would raise my piece nervously to my shoulder 
and challenge the supposed intruder. 

''Who goes there!" I would shout as fiercely 
as I could. My voice sounded very peculiar 
in the night air, echoing through the trees. 
There was never any response to my challenges. 

It was very cold, but I am free to confess I 
was covered with perspiration from the excite- 
ment of my vigil. In the few hours that I was 

[89] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

on watch that night I think every incident in 
my whole life passed before me in review, but 
perhaps the episode which came before me most 
distinctly was that interview with Boris in our 
bedroom when I had revealed to him my pur- 
pose to enlist. 

" You enlist! Why, you're even afraid to 
sleep alone, Paul, and you know it!" he had 
remarked, satirically. 

God knows this night I wasn't afraid to sleep 
alone — sleep would have been a happy relief — 
but to stay awake in that silent forest, waiting, 
waiting for a possible shot or bayonet-thrust 
from out the dark — that made me sweat, and I 
don't mind admitting it! 

For company's sake I thought I would walk 
to the extreme end of my post and pass the 
hour of night with the sentinel who was cover- 
ing the adjoining post. I waited at the spot 
where our posts met. Five minutes — ten min- 
utes — fifteen minutes passed, and he didn't ap- 
pear. I whistled low — thinking that he, too, 
might have established a listening-post some- 
where in the vicinity — but got no response. 
Dawn was beginning to break and the darkness 
was not so intense. I peered through the shrub- 
bery, but I could see nothing. 

I was about to give up my quest when I 
thought I noticed something moving carefully 
through the shrubbery. 

" "I??J 



DEAD MAN'S SHOES 

"Halt!" I shouted, bringing my piece to my 
shoulder and taking careful aim. 

There was no answer and the movement 
stopped. Thinking I had been mistaken or 
that it was some small animal, and not wishing 
to alarm the guard by firing unnecessarily, I 
lowered my rifle and walked away about ten 
feet, figuring that if the movement I thought I 
had noticed had indeed been that of an intruder, 
my ruse would lead him to resume his original 
plan, when — bang ! — a gun went off not six feet 
from me and a bullet whizzed right past my 
head! 

I dropped to the ground instantly, but before 
I could take aim and fire, a second shot rang out 
and a bullet grazed my gun near the trigger and 
knocked the piece out of my hands. 

Picking up the gun by the sling, I ran for 
cover, blowing my guard whistle as loud as I 
could. As I did so a figure jumped up from 
the ground and disappeared in the woods. 

A moment later the rest of the guard was 
around me. 

"What's the matter, Paul?" they asked me 
all at once, excitedly. 

I explained to the sergeant the cause of the 
firing, showing him the abrasion on my rifle 
where the bullet had grazed it. 

"Where's Kuzmov? What was he doing?" 

Kuzmov was the sentinel covering the ad- 
[91] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

joining post. I was unable to answer their 
questions. I hadn't seen him all night. 

The sergeant blew a whistle, which was the 
signal for the sentry to report, but Kuzmov 
didn't appear in response to it. After waiting 
several minutes, we were detailed as a searching- 
party to find Kuzmov. 

The thought that worried me as we beat 
about the bushes was, "Suppose I find Kuzmov 
asleep, what shall I do?" To report him would 
mean his summary execution at the hands of a 
court martial. To try to shield him would 
probably mean my own court martial, for if he 
were found unharmed it would be mighty hard 
to explain how it was he had not heeded the ser- 
geant's whistle. I didn't want to find Kuzmov. 

Suddenly from one of our men came the cry, 
"Here he is!" 

Running over to where I had first noticed the 
moving object, I found the sergeant and one or 
two men bending over the form of poor Kuzmov. 
He was indeed asleep — the sleep from which 
there is no awakening. His body was so full of 
bayonet wounds that it looked like a sieve; his 
head was crushed almost beyond recognition. 
But for his form and his uniform we should not 
have been sure of his identity. 

Some of the soldiers went through his clothes 
to collect his effects, but I walked away. The 
sight had sickened me. The thought that I 



DEAD MAN'S SHOES 

might have been in his shoes and suffered his 
fate made me shudder. His glassy eyes, which 
remained open, haunted me ever after. I can 
see them now. In the days that were to come 
I was to see death many times and in various 
forms, but it was something to which I never 
became callous. I remember, in this connec- 
tion, a visit I paid to the Medical Department 
of the University of Moscow with one of the 
students who was a friend of mine. It was 
after the war was over so far as I was con- 
cerned. He took me into the dissecting-room 
and led me to a table around which several 
students were gathered. As we approached, one 
of the students left the table and I got a glimpse 
of the corpse they were dissecting. One glimpse 
was enough. I took my friend's arm and led 
him from the room. 

"Come, Petrovitch," I said, "let's go some- 
where else." 

"What's the matter with you, Paul? Any 
one would think, after all your experiences, that 
sights like this would seem tame." 

"No," I answered. "I came near to death 
myself so many times that the sight of a dead 
body brings before my eyes a kaleidoscopic pict- 
ure of the dangers I went through. Whenever 
I saw a victim on the battle-field I used to 
think of the thoughts that must have run 
through his mind in his last moments — the same 
7 [93] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

lands of thoughts that ran through my mind 
when it seemed that my last moment had come. 
In the stiff form and glassy-eyed countenance 
lying on that table I see a composite picture of 
scores of victims who made the supreme sacri- 
fice. Come, let us get out in the air. This 
place stifles me!'' 

But to return to Eragola. 

I was relieved from further sentry duty at 
once — my watch was nearly up, anyway — and 
went back to the village. There I made an 
official report of the occurrence. 

In the streets I ran across a number of men 
from the rest of our squadron as well as from 
other regiments in our division, which had evi- 
dently caught up with us during the night. 

When I reached the hut where our company 
was quartered one of our men threw me a pair of 
boots which he had been examining rather closely. 

"Better take 'em, Paul," he declared. "You're 
entitled to them, and they're smaller than the 
ones you are wearing, too. You can have the 
overcoat, too, if you want to. It has some 
blood stains on it and there are some ugly holes 
in it, but it is better than none." 

From his reference to the coat, I inferred that 
it, as well as the boots, had belonged to poor 
Kuzmov, and I let the latter lie where he had 
thrown them. I couldn't bear to handle them, 
much less to wear them. 

[94] 




"you poor fiddler! don't you know a dead man's boots are 
the luckiest you can wear?" 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

"What's the matter, Paul? Aren't they good 
enough for you?" he asked, noticing that I had 
apparently rejected them. 

"No, Demetri, I think they're too big," I 
answered, indifferently, and then, not wanting 
to appear chicken-hearted, I picked them up and 
pretended that I was going to appropriate them. 

Later, when Demetri left the room, I decided 
to deposit them behind an old chest of drawers, 
and I was disposing of them in that way when 
Stassie entered the room. 

"For the love of Peter, what are you doing 
with that perfectly good pair of boots, Paul?" 
he demanded. 

"Why, Stassie, they belonged to poor Kuz- 
mov," I answered, in a tone of awe that I could 
not disguise. "I'd rather go barefooted than 
wear them." 

"You idiot! You poor fiddler! Don't you 
know a dead man's boots are the luckiest you 
can. wear? Put them on this minute or I'll 
mighty quick show you the ones you have on 
are the imlnckiest you ever wore!" 

Stassie was so excited about it that I com- 
plied and, disgusted as I was, put on the blood- 
stained boots. In the months that followed I 
soon forgot their uncanny association, but if 
the charm they bore helped to pull me through 
the dangers I encountered, it certainly did not 
operate to keep me out of them! 

[96] 



VII 

COLD STEEL 

T X 7TTH my newly acquired boots on, I thought 
» V I might be lucky enough to get a decent 
breakfast if I could find the house where I had 
procured a meal the night before. It did not 
take me long to find it, and I asked the lady who 
came to the door, who appeared to be Jewish, 
whether she would furnish me breakfast, for 
which I was prepared to pay. 

She asked me in and prepared me some tea 
and brought me bread and butter. I was just 
about through when five soldiers came into the 
room. There were not chairs enough for all of 
them, but they managed to seat themselves on 
the three chairs that were already placed at the 
table. 

"Hurry up, old woman!" they ordered, 
roughly, "we want some breakfast, and we 
want it quick!" 

"Will you pay me — as this young soldier is 
going to do?" the woman asked, politely enough. 
"I have but a scanty supply of food for my hus- 

[97] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

band and myself; I cannot afford to give it 
away!" 

" Don't ask idle questions!" one of the soldiers 
answered, angrily, bringing his fist down heavily 
on the table. "You ought to feel honored that 
we are willing to eat your dirty food! Bring 
us breakfast, I tell you, and bring it quick, or 
you will have no further use for food or any- 
thing else!" 

And then, turning to his comrades, he asked, 
disgustedly: 

"What do you think of these Jews? Didn't 
I tell you they're working hand in hand with 
the Huns?" 

"That's a lie!" I cried, jumping to my feet. 
My blood was boiling. "Tnt a Jew and I'm 
fighting against the Huns just as hard as you 
are! This woman is a Russian and she's en- 
titled to be treated as a Russian. Even the 
Huns would treat their own women better than 
you are treating her!" 

The woman heard my angry words, and, evi- 
dently fearing trouble, brought the men food 
without further protest. They glared at me 
while they ate their bread and drank their tea 
and made some insulting remarks about the 
woman of the house, but they did not answer 
me, which was fortunate, perhaps — for me. 

After they had eaten they got up and left 
the place without paying a cent! 

[98] 



COLD STEEL 

The woman went into the adjoining room and 
threw herself across a bed, starting to cry. 

"It is against the law for soldiers to act this 
way," I told her, trying to comfort her. "I 
will report these men and you'll be paid by the 
Commissary Department. It may take a little 
time, but you'll be paid eventually." 

"It is not so much the money — although I 
can ill afford to feed strangers for nothing," she 
wept. "But why do they insult me and my 
people? Is it nothing that my son fights for 
Russia? Why is Russia so ungrateful to his 
mother?" 

The incident upset me. There might have 
been some justification for acting that way in 
enemy territory, but why should Russian sol- 
diers act so unfairly to their own people? 

When I got back to our quarters I spoke to 
the porutchik about it. 

"Yes, Iogolevitch," he admitted, "it is against 
the law, but what can I do? The government 
itself, you know, has always been against the 
Jews, and you can't expect these muzhiks in 
uniform to act any better. Why, we've just 
received an order from the Grand- Duke Nicolai 
Nicholevitch, the commander-in-chief, to watch 
the Jews closely and to deal with them sum- 
marily if we have any doubt of their loyalty. 
Three officers may constitute themselves a court, 
try any Jew that is suspected, and may order 

[99l 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

his immediate execution if convinced of his 
guilt!" 

This intelligence made me very unhappy be- 
cause I felt that many innocent members of my 
faith would undoubtedly suffer death under such 
a drastic rule. I determined to keep my eyes 
and ears open when quartered in these villages 
and ascertain, if possible, whether there was any 
real justification for the suspicion leveled against 
the Jews. 

An hour or two later we were ordered to pro- 
ceed. This time I was assigned with another 
man as rear-guard. We rode a quarter of a 
mile behind the company. 

My companion was a peculiar fellow named 
Matvay Kapustin. I had never liked him be- 
cause he was always boasting about the great 
pull he had in the regiment. A couple of years 
afterward, when I went to America, 1 heard a 
term which puzzled me. I couldn't find it in 
the dictionary which I was using, but when, 
upon inquiry, I found out what it signified I 
thought how well it would have fitted Matvay — 
poor fellow, he suffered terribly later on as the 
result of Hun barbarism. Matvay Kapustin 
was a "four-flusher." 

"I'm only a corporal," he chattered as we 
trotted along, ''but the general himself wouldn't 
dare to cross me. I had some trouble with a 
polkovnik once. When he was transferred he 

[ 100] 



COLD STEEL 

realized that it does not pay to run foul of Mat- 
vay Kapustin! Better watch yourself, Iogole- 
vitch!" 

I paid little attention to him. His chatter 
went in one ear and out the other. I was glad, 
however, when, an hour or two later, I was re- 
lieved and sent forward, with Stassie, ahead of 
the advance-guard. Stassie was given a map, 
and in accordance with instructions which were 
given him we followed a by-road which led into 
the woods, where we joined Company No. 2 
of our squadron, Stassie and I still acting as 
advance-guard. 

Suddenly Stassie's horse snorted and almost 
simultaneously a shot rang out behind us, fol- 
lowed by twenty or thirty more. A second or 
two later our two companies came galloping 
past us, almost throwing us from our horses as 
they swept by, and then came some more shots. 
My horse reared up on his hind legs and threw 
me. Stassie, who was trying to hold in his 
mount, which did not seem to like the idea of 
being passed by the rest of the company, bent 
down quickly from his saddle, grabbed my hand, 
and with all his strength swung me up in front 
of him, and dashed off into the woods on our 
left, through which we made our way in an 
effort to overtake our comrades. 

The branches of the tree struck us cruelly. 
I was lying face down across the horse's neck, 

[101J 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

and Stassie's left hand was pressed heavily on 
my back, while my legs were squeezed tightly 
behind his lance, which was attached to both his 
right arm and right foot. 

We caught up with our company about a 
quarter of a mile farther on, where they were 
waiting for us, and there we were joined by 
Wania, who came galloping down the road. 
Blood was streaming from her chest, and Pa- 
nunsev, after examining the wound, ordered me 
to shoot the animal. Poor Wania! I would 
sooner have shot myself. Seeing my repug- 
nance to take the animal's life, a soldier of 
Company 2 took my revolver from my hand 
and, while I turned my back, shot poor Wania 
twice in the head. 

I continued to ride with Stassie until we came 
to a row of huts which formed the outskirts of 
the village of Betigola, where, we were told, 
there was quite a force of Germans in possession. 

Panunsev informed us that we were to take 
the village at the point of the bayonet, and we 
were ordered to dismount. Leaving a few men 
to guard the horses and the equipment which we 
didn't need, we fixed our bayonets and marched 
down the road. 

Broken telegraph wires and other signs indi- 
cated that the Germans had captured the village 
only after a bitter fight. Every hundred yards 
or so we came upon the body of a dead horse, 

[102] 



COLD STEEL 

with glassy eyes and stomach blown up to an 
enormous size from the gases which had formed 
when putrefaction set in, and legs rising straight 
and stiff in the air like pieces of wood. A ter- 
rible odor came from the rotting carcasses. 

When we came to a point from which through 
field-glasses we could see the village we waited 
for the other two companions of our squadron, 
which had been ordered to join us. With them 
we had in all about a hundred men. 

Between us and the village lay an open plain. 
The companies which had joined us had brought 
with them a machine-gun, and it was placed 
upon a slight rising in the ground. Part of our 
men were ordered off to the right flank, making 
their way through the woods, and another body 
was sent over similarly to the left. When we 
were all properly placed a signal was given and 
we started to move forward on our hands and 
knees. 

Crawling along in this way, we came upon 
some trenches which some of our men were 
ordered to occupy to cover us if we were com- 
pelled to retreat. 

We had advanced within perhaps five hundred 
yards of the village when the enemy's patrols 
spied us and opened fire from the houses. 

Panunsev blew a whistle. Our machine-gun 
started to rattle away. A moment later the 
enemy came charging at the machine-gun, figur- 

[ 103 ] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

ing, no doubt, that it represented the center of 
our attacking force. 

I was with the party that had been told off to 
the right. As the Germans came rushing down 
the road, right past the point where we lay con- 
cealed in the shrubbery, I wondered why we 
were not ordered to attack them on the flank. 
I could hardly restrain myself from getting to 
my feet and charging at them. 

"Steady, there!" commanded Sergeant Pirov, 
in a low voice. I was trembling a little with 
excitement. The gun I carried seemed very 
heavy, but I realized that it was the best friend 
I had at the moment and I clutched it firmly. 

1 ' Now, then, men, let them have it ! Charge !" 
the sergeant shouted. 

We scrambled to our feet and charged full tilt 
against the passing Huns. They were headed 
straight down the road and didn't expect to be 
attacked on the flank. I didn't pick out any 
one in particular, but suddenly I realized that 
the whole fight had narrowed itself down, so 
far as I was concerned, to a single combat. 

Before me was a huge German brandishing 
his gun, which he held by the muzzle and had 
swung far above his head. I got one short 
glimpse of his huge figure, and one of the things 
that impressed me was that he wore a cap 
instead of the customary helmet, and around 
his body were three belts of bullets. 

[ 104 1 



COLD STEEL 

That was all I saw, because then I shut my 
eyes and thrust my bayonet blindly toward 
him. It pierced his body just above the heart 
and loosened his hold on the rifle, which went 




BEFORE ME WAS A HUGE GERMAN BRANDISHING HIS GUN 



hurtling through the air, and the next moment 
he fell forward on top of me, knocking me to 
the ground. 

I lay still for a moment, stunned by the fall, 
in which my head struck the ground heavily, 
and then, pushing the unconscious form of the 

[105] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

German from me, I got to my feet, withdrew my 
bayonet from his body, and followed my com- 
rades, whom I could see had the Germans on 
the run. 

We took Betigola. It was partly in flames. 
From the roof of one of the buildings, which was 
intact, we kept up a machine-gun fire after the 
fleeing Germans as long as they were in range, 
and then we established a bucket brigade and 
endeavored to stop the spread of the flames in 
the village. 

An hour or so later we were joined by tne 
rest of our division and the little village once 
again resumed its normal appearance, the in- 
habitants coming out of their houses and bring- 
ing us bread, cheese, and butter in token of 
their appreciation for our services in rescuing 
them from the Huns. 

I was provided with a new horse, which 
I christened Waskia. When the animal was 
stabled I got a chance to get some sleep. I 
started to thank God for having brought me 
safely through the battle, but I was so thor- 
oughly exhausted that I fell asleep before my 
prayer was finished. 

In the hut where I was quartered were a 
number of men who did not belong to our 
squadron. I overheard them talking while I 
was getting up the next morning, and their con- 
versation filled me with misgivings. 



COLD STEEL 

Some of them had been told by Lithuanians 
in the village, it seemed, that while the Germans 
were in possession of Betigola the Jews of the 
village had done all they could to help them! 

Knowing the hatred which these Lithuanians 
bore toward my race, I did not believe there 
was the slightest foundation for the accusa- 
tions they had made, but the soldiers had been 
more credulous, and I knew that in very short 
order the rumor of the Jews' disloyalty would 
spread through the village and reach the ears of 
our officers. 

I feared the worst, knowing that among the 
officers were many anti-Semites, and I hastened 
into the village to find out just what was 
going on. 

In the main street I met a Jew. I stopped 
him and asked him how the rumor had arisen 
that the Jews had aided the enemy. 

"I'm a Jew myself," I added. "You can 
answer me truthfully. Don't be afraid to tell 
me exactly what occurred." 

"There is no truth in it at all, corporal!" he 
declared, earnestly, and with apparent sin- 
cerity. "When the Huns took possession of 
our village we were all ordered to dig trenches. 
Most of the villagers, you know, did not under- 
stand German, and so the Jews were picked out 
to act as interpreters. We were all soon busy 
at our work, Lithuanians, Poles, and Jews — all 

[107] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

except those who were used as interpreters and 
who acted as overseers." 

"And because the Jews were seen in conver- 
sation with the German officers the conclusion 
was reached, I suppose, that they were working 
hand in hand with the Germans. Is that it?" 

"Yes, sir, that is the whole truth. They 
had no choice in the matter. The Jews who 
acted as interpreters were no more to blame 
than the rest of us who dug the trenches, but 
among the diggers harsh things were said about 
our people." 

It was just as I had thought. As I left my 
informant I noticed hundreds of soldiers and 
villagers hurrying down the main street, and I 
stopped one of the men of my company and 
asked him what the excitement was about. 

"They're hanging the Jew traitors — nine of 
them!" he replied, and hurried after the crowd. 

If he had plunged a knife into me he could 
not have pained me more. I ran down the 
street. At the end of it I saw an immense 
crowd. In its midst was a scaffold! The sight 
gave me unsuspected strength and I forced my 
way through the crowd as though they were so 
many cork figures. At the side of the scaffold 
was an officer. 

"Captain!" I shouted, breathlessly, as I came 
within six feet of him. "Stop these murders! 
There is a terrible mistake!" 

[108] 



COLD STEEL 

"Silence, you dog!" he retorted, white with 
anger that I, a corporal, should have the te- 
merity to address him in that fashion. "What 
do you mean by this insult!" 

"Innocent blood is about to be shed, captain. 
This is no time for etiquette. I — " 

His arm shot out and caught me on the 
point of the chin and I measured my length in 
the mud. 

I got slowly to my feet, half stunned from 
the shock of the blow. My hand was on my 
revolver, but my better judgment restrained me. 

The piercing cry of a woman attracted my 
attention momentarily to the scaffold. The 
sight will never be blotted from my brain. 
Eight poor wretches were standing at the foot 
of the scaffold — three men, two women, two 
boys, and a girl. Their faces were colorless, ex- 
cept where they were stained with blood, from 
cuts and scratches which they had undoubt- 
edly received when they were seized. There 
was a stoic expression about their countenances 
in which one read the tragedy of their *ace. A 
ninth, the poor woman whose screams had 
attracted my attention, had fallen to the floor 
and was crying aloud for justice. Justice! 

The tears came to my eyes at the realization 
of my utter helplessness. Turning from the 
pitiful scene, I burst through the crowd, biting 
my lips to keep from crying, and hurrying away 

8 [ 109 ] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

as fast as I could. I knew I couldn't save those 
poor wretches and so I wanted to get away from 
the spot as fast as possible, that their last de- 
spairing cries might not haunt me for the rest of 
my life. 

I didn't stop until I got to the stable where 
my horse was stalled. Falling into the hay, I 
pulled at my hair as hard as I could, hoping 
that the physical pain might make me forget 
the mental torture of the tragedy that was being 
enacted down the street. 

Some time later I felt a grab at my shoulder and 
turned to find Stassie, white-faced and serious — 
the first time I had ever seen him in that condition. 

"It's tough, Pavlik, very tough!" he sym- 
pathized. "I feel terrible about it myself, but 
what's the use of grieving? Remember God is 
the final judge. The innocent may have suf- 
fered to-day — but the guilty will not escape." 

I got to my feet and accompanied him out of 
the stable. We walked out of the village, anx- 
ious to get away as far as possible from the 
scene of that pitiful tragedy, but it was a long 
time before the events of that fateful day ceased 
to distress me. 

Later on, when I visited America and came to 
understand how impossible such a thing was in 
a country where liberty is something more than 
a name, I realized to the full how sadly my 
country had suffered for the want of it. 

[no] 



VIII 

SURROUNDED BY GERMANS 

'T'HE next day our squadron was ordered to 
*• advance toward the city of Rossieny. From 
what we heard, there were some thirty or forty 
thousand Germans in possession of that city. 
It was not expected, of course, that our little 
squadron of one hundred and thirty men should 
attack the Huns. Our job was merely to harass 
the German scouts and patrols and at the same 
time feel the way for the advance of our own 
forces. 

Wherever possible, we proceeded through the 
woods. It was not easy going even in the day- 
time, but at night — and it got to be dark about 
four o'clock in the afternoon — it was particu- 
larly difficult. The lances of the men in front 
would bend the boughs and then they would 
snap back and strike the men who followed. 
Owing to the darkness, it was impossible to 
dodge the blows of the boughs, and many of us 
were severely scratched and bruised as a result. 
Finally the men with lances were ordered to 

[in] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

the rear and from that time on our progress 
was attended with less discomfort. 

At dawn we penetrated the woods, and our 
advance-guards reported that through their field- 
glasses they could see a force of Germans occu- 
pying an estate. Solntsef evidently decided to 
wait until dark. 

All day long we were kept in the woods, feed- 
ing our horses and ourselves from the reserve 
food we carried in our saddles. During the day 
our scouts reported that the numbers of the 
Germans had been increased, several detach- 
ments of infantry having been seen to enter the 
estate and none to come out. 

In the afternoon Solntsef sent scouts forward 
to ascertain whether the adjoining estate was 
occupied by the enemy. While they were gone 
it started to sleet and made things very uncom- 
fortable for us. Our day of inactivity in the 
woods had gotten on our nerves, anyway, and 
we were sleepy and fretful. 

When our scouts got back we were ordered to 
proceed cautiously toward the estate adjoining 
the one in the possession of the enemy, holding 
the nostrils of our horses to prevent them neigh- 
ing and thereby attracting the enemy's atten- 
tion. 

We had barely reached the estate when a 
dozen or more dogs began to bark vigorously. 
We drew our sabers and chased them, with the 

[112] 



SURROUNDED BY GERMANS 

idea of quieting them for good, but we only 
excited them the more, and we gave it up. 

The damage had been done. A sky-rocket 
from the enemy's estate, followed by another 
and then a third, told us that our presence 
was known to the Huns. At the first flare 
we were ordered to place our horses under 
cover. We led them into a stone building 
which had evidently been the home of the 
owner of the estate. Then we went outside 
and lay prone, ready for a possible attack of 
the enemy. 

A storm of machine-gun bullets struck a 
wooden building near where we were lying, in- 
dicating that the enemy's illuminations had dis- 
closed our exact position. 

As the enemy's aim became more accurate 
with each succeeding flare, we were ordered to 
change our positions constantly. This con- 
tinued for nearly an hour, during which time we 
expected them to storm our estate at any mo- 
ment, but it soon became evident that they 
had another plan in view. While the fire from 
the original direction was sustained we suddenly 
became aware that we were being fired upon 
from the rear and from the left as well! We 
were being gradually surrounded. 

"Who will volunteer to get through and carry 
a message to our forces at Betigola?" Captain 
Solntsef asked, after he had explained our pre- 

[113] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

dicament. "If we don't get help before morn- 
ing, we shall be annihilated!" 

A dozen or more of us jumped forward. I 
suggested that I could remove my uniform and 
pass as a civilian, as I had done before. 

"That would not protect you now!" the cap- 
tain answered. "The Huns would fire on any- 
thing that moved out of the estate!" 

"Very well, captain," I replied. "I will go 
as I am." 

"No, Paul, I guess we'll take a more experi- 
enced man this time. Gavril Kolnin, we'll give 
you the honor. Step forward!" 

He handed the trooper who came forward in 
response to the order a note which he hastily 
scribbled, read it to him, and wished him good 
luck. Without another word the soldier plunged 
into the darkness and disappeared from sight. 

Shortly afterward the enemy began to fire on 
us from the right flank. We were now com- 
pletely surrounded. I was lying not far from 
our machine-gun and I heard one of the men 
remark that it would have been better for us if 
some of us had remained in the woods with the 
gun so that we could have bothered the Germans 
from two angles. 

This idea sounded good to me. I suggested 
it to the commander. 

"If you will let me take the machine-gun and 
some of our men to the right of the estate, 

[ 114] 



SURROUNDED BY GERMANS 

captain, we might surprise the enemy and per- 
haps have a chance to break through their 
cordon." 

He disagreed at first, but later on decided to 
give the plan a trial. From a dozen or more 
volunteers he detailed ten men besides myself 
to put it into execution. Stassie was one of 
the party. 

The captain ordered our men to cease firing 
for a full minute and then to resume for two 
minutes, following this schedule four times. 
After the fourth spell of firing we were to move 
over rapidly to the right and to set our machine- 
gun several hundred yards nearer the enemy. 

Fortunately for us, this maneuver was carried 
out without discovery, the enemy's flares having 
temporarily ceased. We were no sooner located 
in our new position when Stassie suggested that 
if we would obey his orders, he would show us a 
way to break through the German lines and get 
to the woods in safety. 

We were willing to take a chance. Stassie 
lighted a match under his overcoat, placed three 
Russian cigarettes in his mouth and ignited 
them, inhaling so that he produced a consider- 
able flare. Then he disappeared in the darkness, 
with the parting injunction to make our dash for 
the forest when he fired his revolver four times. 

A moment later, about one hundred and fifty 
yards nearer the German lines we observed a 

[n5l 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

strange movement of a red flare in the air. It 
was like a huge firefly flying in circles, only it 
traveled faster than any firefly. The Germans 
must have noticed it, too, for they ceased firing 
— undoubtedly suspecting a trick on our part. 
Then came four pistol-shots in quick succession, 
and we dashed for the woods. 

I had run but a short distance when I tripped 
over a form in the dark and fell forward on my 
face, but I picked myself up in time to see the 
form arise and run toward the German estate. 
Then I got to the woods as fast as my legs would 
carry me and found there the rest of our party. 

We got our machine-gun to work without 
delay and the rest of us fired our rifles as fast as 
we could pull the triggers and reload. 

Our ruse worked. The men who had sur- 
rounded the estate, surprised by the fire from 
the woods and thinking we had received rein- 
forcements, got up and ran for their estate, 
dozens of them being caught, however, by our 
machine-gun fire. The rest of our squadron 
seized the opportunity to escape from the estate, 
mounting their horses and dashing for the woods, 
where we were already safely sheltered. 

But where was Stassie? I was so sure that 
he had paid with his life for the trick which had 
saved the squadron that I voiced my fear to the 
soldier who was manning the machine-gun. Be- 
fore he could answer, a voice from the darkness 

[116] 



SURROUNDED BY GERMANS 

cried, "For God's sake, stop the shooting a 
moment and give me a chance to get out of this 
hole!" 

We stopped our fire immediately and Stassie 
came running toward us. He had spent half 
an hour in a hole half filled with mud and water, 
and he was soaked through. Besides, the tips 
of his fingers were burned by the cigarettes 
he had used as a torch, but apart from these 
minor injuries he was unharmed. 

A canvass of our members revealed that eleven 
of us were wounded and five were missing. 

In the morning we were ordered to approach 
the outskirts of the woods and resume our 
attack on the estate occupied by the Germans, 
but when we came to the edge of the woods we 
observed that it was in flames. 

We waited about ten minutes, and then half 
of our number was ordered to take possession 
of the flaming estate and the other half to re- 
occupy the estate we had held the night before. 
I was among the latter, and when we got to the 
scene of last night's battle the first thing we did 
was to search for our missing. We found two 
of them dead and two more badly wounded, but 
the fifth we could find nowhere, and we as- 
sumed that the poor fellow must have been 
captured. Our horses were where we had left 
them and unharmed, although the stone building 
was fairly plastered with bullets. 

[«7l 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

We did not linger long at this point. Ten of 
our men were assigned to carry our wounded to 
Betigola and the rest of us took the road in our 
usual formation. 

Five miles along the road we came to another 
estate which our advance-guard reported was 
unoccupied. We entered it and placed our 
horses in the stables, which were more com- 
fortable than the main house, fed them hay and 
oats, which were plentiful, and then prepared 
some breakfast for ourselves. 

The only thing we could find in the way of 
food was potatoes, but it was so long since we 
had had anything but cold meals that the pota- 
toes, boiled over a camp-fire, tasted as good to 
us as a seven-course banquet. 

The excitement of the night had made us for- 
get all about sleep, but, now that it was all over 
and our stomachs were fed, nature would no 
longer be denied, and we lay down without 
removing our uniforms and were soon dead to 
the world. 

It wasn't long before we were aroused and 
ordered to dig trenches. They kept us at it all 
the morning, but in the afternoon we got an- 
other chance to catch up on the sleep we had 
missed. 

In the evening Stassie and I were detailed to 
establish a listening-post about half a mile up 
the road. 

[118] 



SURROUNDED BY GERMANS 

When we reached the spot indicated Stassie 
suggested that we dig a trench. 

"It would be better for our health — and, be- 
sides, our forms might mar the beauty of the 
scene!" he declared, a sentiment in which I 
readily concurred. 

Our trench dug, we made ourselves as com- 
fortable as we could, but a cold wind blew up 
and it started to rain again. We were soon 
drenched to the skin. 

"Better get a little sleep, Paul!" Stassie sug- 
gested ; ' ' you look dead ! ' ' 

"I feel it, but how about you?" 

"Well, I won't be far away — sleeping, per- 
haps, in a more comfortable place." 

I may have dozed off, but I kept one eye and 
both ears open most of the time, and suddenly 
I heard a noise from afar like the motor of an 
airplane. I thought at first that I was dream- 
ing, but the noise became plainer and plainer, 
as though the machine were coming our way. I 
jumped toward Stassie, who was sound asleep 
in the trench, and shook him. 

"Stassie!" I yelled, "isn't that an airplane?" 

"Sure it's an airplane, you idiot!" he an- 
swered, turning over on his side and closing 
his eyes again. "I brought one along on my 
horse." 

The motor was now too plain to be mistaken, 
however, and Stassie jumped to his feet. 

[119] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

"By Jove, Paul! You're nearly half right, 
but your airplane is a motor-cycle — a German 
motor-cycle, too — about ten horse-power, in first- 
class condition. It's good for about two min- 
utes more and then — pff!" and with a snap of 
his fingers he indicated the fate that was in store 
for the oncoming machine. 

With his overcoat, his ammunition-belt, and 
mine he formed a rope, from which he hung our 
rifles and other equipment, except our revolvers, 
and taking one end of the improvised barricade, 
he crossed to one side of the road and told me to 
take the other end and go to the other side. It 
was impossible for any one to pass without hit- 
ting our barrier. 

"Now, then, Paul!" Stassie whispered, "hold 
on for all you're worth!" 

The machine came nearer and nearer. When 
it was almost on top of us Stassie yelled, "Care- 
ful there, or you'll bust your machine!" 

His boldness almost knocked me off my feet, 
and the next instant something else did. The 
belt was jerked out of my hands, the motor- 
cycle skidded across the wet road, and I was 
flung over to one side of the gutter. 

I got up quickly and rushed toward Stassie, 
who was battling with two Germans. They 
were on top of him and were pounding his face 
as hard as they could work their fists. In the 
excitement I forgot my revolver and jumped 

[120] 



SURROUNDED BY GERMANS 

into the melee swinging at the Huns as hard as I 
could with my fists. 

One of the Germans stopped pounding Stassie 
long enough to grab me by the leg and down I 
went. He pulled me toward him and, drawing 
back his arm, aimed a blow at my face. If he 
had landed, I am sure he would have knocked 
my nose clear through the back of my head, but 
I drew up my right leg and kicked him in the 
stomach and then, with my left knee, caught 
him a terrific blow on the side of the head, and 
he fell backward unconscious. 

In the mean while Stassie had succeeded in 
seizing the other fellow by the throat, and the 
next instant a flash from a revolver reminded me 
of my own, but when I reached for it I found it 
was gone. A second flash revealed Stassie still 
holding his prisoner and, with his revolver, cov- 
ering the other fellow, who was just recovering 
from the stunning blow I had given him. 

Then a squad of our men arrived, attracted 
by the shots, and we got a chance to breathe. 
Leaving two of the men in charge of the post, 
we marched back with our two prisoners and 
the motor-cycle, which Stassie had already de- 
cided he could use very nicely. 

"I'm going to save this blood," Stassie de- 
clared, referring to the crimson stream which 
flowed profusely from his battered nose, "and 
use it as gasolene for the motor-cycle," but when 

[xaij 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

we reported to Captain Solntsef and Stassie laid 
claim to the machine as his legitimate spoil, he 
was informed that it would be appropriated by- 
headquarters, which led him to remark that he 
was sorry headquarters couldn't have his broken 
nose, too. 

Brought before Captain Solntsef, the Ger- 
mans admitted, through me as interpreter, that 
they had been on their way to the estate from 
which we had driven the Germans the night 
before, and a message in their pockets revealed 
that large enemy forces were on their way to 
meet ours. The prisoners were sent back to 
Betigola. 

The following morning we started off again. 
A couple of Cossacks who overtook us told us 
that some ten thousand of our men were in the 
vicinity and that, in all probability, our squad- 
ron would be sent back to rest billets, as our 
services would no longer be needed. That was 
the first cheering news we had received in many 
days and we were afraid it was too good to be 
true. 

Shortly afterward, however, we received word 
to turn back, and after riding some ten minutes 
we ran into the advance-guard of the forces the 
Cossacks had referred to. 

A little farther on we met the general of the 
corps and his staff, to whom our commander gave 
a report of our work and who then reviewed us. 

[122 J 



SURROUNDED BY GERMANS 

For the next four miles we passed one con- 
tinuous column of infantry and cavalry on their 
way to the front. Following them came the 
machine-gun corps, the engineer corps, the 
light artillery, and then some more infantry, a 
Red Cross unit, an airplane corps, telegraph 
and telephone companies, kitchens and food 
transports, and various other military units. 

On account of the crowded condition of the 
roads our progress was necessarily slow, and 
in one of the estates we came to we were ordered 
to stay for the night. We were dead tired, and, 
for that reason, did not so much resent the delay, 
although we were very anxious for those rest 
billets which the Cossacks had spoken of. 

After providing for our horses, I picked out 
the nearest corner of the stable and lay down 
on the wet and dirty floor without even stop- 
ping to remove my ammunition-belt. Half 
asleep, I heard one of the men suggest that I go 
outside and get some straw off the roof of one 
of the huts and make a bed of it as the others 
were doing, but I was too tired to get up, and, 
although the cold and dampness of the floor 
made me shiver and shake, I coiled up and fell 
asleep. I slept soundly, but was awakened from 
time to time by the enormous rats which in- 
fested the place and which jumped around the 
stable as boldly as you please, sometimes land- 
ing squarely on our bodies and sometimes on 

[123] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

our faces, but in the morning I felt considerably- 
refreshed. 

Early next morning we started on our way 
again and at length reached Betigola. There 
we spent five memorable days, although our 
pleasure was somewhat clouded by the fact that 
our commander, Captain Solntsef, was retired 
on account of ill health. He was a stern disci- 
plinarian and a demon for work, but he was no 
shirker himself and we worked for him willingly. 

Our company commander, Porutchik Panun- 
sev, was promoted to the captaincy of the squad- 
ron, and was succeeded by a young fellow fresh 
from an officers' school, Podporutchik Lavron- 
sev. He didn't look to be more than eighteen 
years of age, and we all felt that it was influ- 
ence that had secured him the position rather 
than merit, but we had no say in the matter. 

The day the new podporutchik took charge of 
our company, Captain Panunsev whispered to 
him, and then he called me over and shook hands 
with me and declared that he was going to pro- 
cure a violin so that we could have some music 
during our furlough. I didn't like to be singled 
out by an officer who, I felt, was not going to 
be very popular with us, but I had to appear 
agreeable and I said I would do my best. 

Later on he sent a soldier to me with an instru- 
ment he had secured in the village, and during 
the rest of our holiday we had music with our 

[ 124] 



SURROUNDED BY GERMANS 

meals, before our meals, and after our meals. 
We really had a very good time, and we felt 
particularly happy and carefree because word 
drifted through to us that our forces had capt- 
ured the town of Rossieny, driving the enemy 
back seventy miles and capturing many prisoners, 
a number of whom we saw passing through 
Betigola. 

With these reports to cheer us, we were quite 
at a loss to understand a terrific cannonading 
which broke out the last night of our furlough 
and which shook our building to its foundations. 
Some of the men climbed to the roof of the 
stable, but they could see nothing in the dark- 
ness. The explosions continued for an hour or 
more, and we finally concluded that it must be 
from our own gun sfiring at airplanes, and 
went back to sleep. 

During the night we were awakened again, 
however, several heavy explosions coming one 
right after another. Again some of our men 
jumped to the stable roof. This time it was 
not so dark, day was beginning to break, and in 
the forest far away we could see clouds of smoke. 

Suddenly there came a drilling sound, a loud 
buzzing and shrieking, and a shell flew right 
over our heads and exploded on the other side 
of the village. Another landed a moment later 
in about the same spot. Then came a third, 
which exploded right in the center of the village. 
9 [125] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

We were being bombarded ! 

Without waiting for instructions, we got out 
our horses, saddled them, and prepared for 
whatever orders we might receive. We were 
not a moment too soon, for a shell burst right 
over our stable and the shrapnel took the corner 
off the roof. 

We decided to run over to the house where 
our officers were quartered. 

"We better wake them up," declared Stassie, 
"or they'll miss the performance." 

As we started down the street a grenade 
exploded right ahead of us and we turned into a 
near-by alley, through which we planned to 
reach the main street. Coming toward us was 
an army wagon loaded with boxes of shrapnel. 
It was drawn by six horses. Just as we reached 
the wagon a shell exploded right above us, up- 
setting the wagon, throwing the horses to the 
ground, and injuring a woman and a child who 
happened to be passing. 

There was a jumbled mass of horses, ammuni- 
tion-boxes, and debris. We were about to turn 
back when a shell burst behind us and our 
horses leaped over the wreckage and galloped 
down the alley. When we reached the main 
street we found it jammed with artillery, trans- 
ports, artillery wagons, motors, and troops. 
Again we turned back, and at a wild gallop made 
our way to a field. There we ran into a scene of 

F126I 



SURROUNDED BY GERMANS 

disorder such as it is almost impossible for me 
to describe — an army run amuck! 

There were thousands of soldiers and horses 
running wild across the field. Guns and am- 
munition were scattered everywhere. Some of 
the soldiers had removed their boots that they 
might move faster. Transports and Red Cross 
wagons were standing upside down or hope- 
lessly entangled with artillery and gun - car- 
riages. Shrapnel was bursting in the air and 
bombs were falling from enemy planes which 
hovered above us like birds of prey, swooping 
down from time to time and spraying the con- 
fused mass with machine-gun bullets. The 
noise was deafening. 

Soldiers carrying the wounded on stretchers 
dropped their pitiable burdens and ran to save 
themselves. The agonized cries of the wounded 
added to the awful din. 

On the main road, which was higher than the 
field, panic-stricken troops were engaged in a 
desperate struggle among themselves, every one 
trying to get out of harm's way without the 
faintest idea of where safety lay. The strug- 
gling mass made a plain target for the German 
guns. The execution was terrific, the victims 
toppling down the side of the embankment in 
vast numbers. 

Suddenly a grenade struck not twenty yards 
from me and flying splinters struck down my 

[127] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

nearest comrade. My own horse fell to her 
knees and I lost my seat. My animal was un- 
injured, however, and I scrambled back and 
followed my comrades through the field, al- 
though we were widely separated. 

At length we managed to get out of the open 
field and found shelter in the woods. By the 
time we reached this cover we observed that our 
artillery had at last started a counter-attack, 
and shrapnel and shell were flying toward the 
enemy's lines over the heads of our retreating 
forces. 

In the forest we found thirty or forty men of 
our regiment, but Sergeant Pirov, Stassie, and 
myself were the only members of our^ company 
who seemed to have found their way there. We 
decided to wait until morning before attempting 
to locate the rest of our company. 

Getting off our tired horses, which were per- 
spiring and foaming, we lay down on the ground 
to rest, but it was not many minutes before a 
colonel rode over to us and ordered us to mount 
and follow him. 

He led us to the road and, pointing to an 
artillery brigade and some Red Cross and trans- 
port wagons, ordered us to accompany them. 
We had to do as we were ordered, although, 
after we had ridden several miles, we learned 
from one of the officers that he was bound for 
Kovno — a two or three days' trip ! 

[128] 




AT LENGTH WE MANAGED TO GET OUT OF THE OPEN FIELD AND 
FOUND SHELTER IN THE WOODS 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

Stassie was very sore about it. 

"I'm going to take a rest, anyway," he de- 
clared, disgustedly. 

"How are you going to manage it?" I asked. 

"It's very simple. Watch ! " Jumping off his 
horse, he hitched it to one of the artillery trucks 
and then, climbing into the truck himself, lay 
down full length and, from his snoring, must 
have fallen asleep immediately. 

The sergeant and I were afraid to do the same 
thing, for fear of attracting the attention of the 
officers and perhaps getting Stassie in trouble, 
and so we got what sleep we could in our saddles. 
We rode all that day and through the night. 

At one of the villages we went through the 
next morning we learned the cause of the dis- 
astrous panic in our army which We had wit- 
nessed at Betigola. 

Our troops, it seemed, had been entirely suc- 
cessful in the drive against the Huns and had in- 
deed recaptured the town of Rossieny, as we had 
been informed, but large bodies of troops which 
had been sent from Kovno to reinforce our 
left flank had gone forward without a pound of 
ammunition. Colonel Petroff, the commander- 
in-chief of the fortress of Kovno, who was 
responsible for that condition and who was 
later found to have been a traitor to Russia, had 
told the commanding officers of the contingent 
that they would find ample ammunition when 

[ 130] 



SURROUNDED BY GERMANS 

they arrived on the firing-line, adequate provi- 
sion having been made to supply them. 

When they took their places in the front lines 
the only ammunition they received was what 
came from the enemy's guns! An army without 
ammunition is worse than helpless. Its useless 
guns and equipment retard its movement, and 
in the face of an attack retreat is the only logical 
course. Needless to say, the treachery that had 
placed our army in this awful predicament had 
kept the enemy fully posted and at the proper 
moment an attack was launched against our 
helpless lines, with the result that we had 
witnessed. 

Such catastrophes as this, which, unfortu- 
nately, were far too frequent and which were in- 
variably the result of treachery in the Russian 
High Command, did more to break down the 
morale of the Russian army than all the legiti- 
mate successes of German arms. 

"Doesn't it take the heart out of you?" 
lamented Stassie as we continued on our way to 
Kovno. "I tell you, Paul, the scaffold they 
used at Betigola to murder those poor, guiltless 
Jews would have served a better purpose at 
Petrograd. Our armies have suffered more from 
treachery in our own High Command than from 
any superiority in the High Command of the 
enemy. That I am sure of!" 

"I guess you're right, Stassie," I answered, 
[131] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

"but I don't see how we can do anything to 
change the situation." 

"We've got a wonderful leader in the grand 
duke," Stassie went on, "and Brusiloff and 
Ruzky are more than a match for all the von 
Hindenburgs and the von Mackensens the Ger- 
mans can supply, but, despite superior general- 
ship, our armies have sometimes met reverses. 
Does any one complain about that? If we get 
the worst of it after a bitter fight in which we 
give almost as much as we take, we accept the 
situation philosophically, lick our wounds, and 
prepare hopefully for to-morrow's battle, don't 
we? That's the fortunes of war, and to-mor- 
row's always another day. But to be sent 
against the enemy with our arms practically 
tied behind our backs — without the ghost of a 
fighting chance — to take all that's handed to us 
without a chance in the world to strike back — 
that's not the fortunes of war, Paul— that's 
wholesale murder! I'd just like to have my 
hands for one second on the throat of the 
Russian traitor who's responsible for such 
crimes!" 

The look on Stassie's face as he expressed the 
last sentiment spoke volumes. He was only 
repeating, however, a line of protest that was 
being constantly voiced in the ranks of the Rus- 
sian army. Successive experiences of the char- 
acter of that we had witnessed at Betigola — all 

[ 13 2 ] 



SURROUNDED BY GERMANS 

brought about in precisely the same way — at 
length broke the spirit of the Russian army. 

Sick at heart, we rode along silently. At 
Kovno we received a certificate from the com- 
mander for our absence from our regiment, and 
then we started for Keidany, from which place 
we hoped to be able to learn, by the use of the 
telephone or telegraph, where we could rejoin 
our command. 

At Keidany we were told that our regiment 
was at Remigola. After riding all day we 
reached that village, only to be told that our 
regiment had not been there at all. Fortunately 
we stayed at Remigola that night, for, in the 
morning, we ran into one of the men of our regi- 
ment who was riding through the village, with 
two sacks of mail on his horse's back. From 
him we learned that the regiment was at Bessi- 
gola, and there we finally located it. 

We started down the street to report to Pod- 
porutchik Lavronsev, but as we passed one of 
the huts Captain Panunsev jumped out and, 
without giving us a chance to explain, struck 
Sergeant Pirov a vicious blow in the face, and 
was about to follow it up, when I bent down 
from my saddle, lifted a stone from the ground, 
and threw it through the window of the nearest 
house. 

The crash of the falling glass had the effect I 
had intended. It distracted the captain's atten- 

[133] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

tion long enough to give him a moment 's reflec- 
tion, and he stopped his bullying of the sergeant. 
But for this ruse I was quite sure there would 
have been a sad mix-up, with possible serious 
consequences, for I could see that Stassie was 
having a hard time to restrain himself and a 
second or two later would have seen him jumping 
from his horse and giving the captain the thrash- 
ing he deserved. 

After the excitement we continued down the 
street, Pirov constantly wiping the blood from 
his face and swearing to himself. 

"If I don't send a bullet through that bully's 
head the first chance I get," he muttered, "you 
can hand me over to the Huns!" and Stassie 
and I both felt that his resentment was fully 
justified. 

Later we learned that the commander of our 
regiment had been replaced by a Colonel Karpo- 
vitch, a man who had the reputation for. being as 
unreasonable an officer as Panunsev had proved. 

With such officers we did not hope for much 
consideration, and in the days that were to fol- 
low we endured such hardships as only Russian 
soldiers would tolerate. Poor food and little of 
it, insufficient sleep, constant work fraught with 
the gravest danger, and seldom a word of praise 
for duties well performed — that was the program 
day in and day out, but we did not grumble, for 
that is the lot of the Russian cavalryman. 

[134] 



IX 

ON PATROL 

CARLY next morning our company was or- 
*~* dered out on patrol. 

Lieutenant Lavronsev led us toward the Du- 
bissa River. After riding some time we came to 
a forest, which we entered. After following the 
main trail for some ten miles we came to a little 
hut. As usual, two of our men were sent 
ahead to investigate, and when they signaled 
to us that it was unoccupied we rode up. 

Sergeant Pirov, Kapustin, two other men, and 
I were detailed to search the hut. The first 
thing that caught my eye as I entered the room 
was a package of cigarettes lying on a table in 
the corner of the room. Although I did not 
smoke myself, I realized what a lot cigarettes 
meant to the others. 

"Cigarettes!" I shouted, excitedly. 

Kapustin and the sergeant jumped toward the 
table to which I pointed. Kapustin got there 
first and in a moment had a cigarette between 
his lips and had handed the box to the others. 

Striking a match, Kapustin lighted his cigarette 
[i3S] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

and took a deep puff. Bang! Crash! A heavy- 
explosion in the room had thrown us all off our 
feet. It was followed by cries of pain from 
Kapustin and another man who had been 
wounded. Before we could get to our feet a 
second explosion, from a corner of the room where 
one of the men had dropped a cigarette he had 
just lighted, brought down part of the ceiling. 

"The dirty swine!" I shouted, realizing, of 
course, that the loaded cigarettes had been left 
by the Huns to secure the effect they had pro- 
duced. 

Poor Kapustin was terribly burned. His cig- 
arette had exploded while in his mouth and half 
his nose and his upper lip had been blown off, 
while the rest of his face was a mass of burns. 
The others, whose cigarettes had exploded in 
their hands, had suffered hand burns, but were 
not seriously hurt. 

The poor fellows jumped from one foot to 
another, unable to endure the intense pain of 
their burns. They cried for water, but the ser- 
geant said it would only make their pain the 
greater. Nevertheless, when we got back to 
the spot where we had left the rest of the com- 
pany water was procured and the men soaked 
their burns in it. 

It seemed to relieve them for the minute, but 
soon their wounds turned a dark blue. Kapus- 
tin's face was horrible to see and he suffered 

[136] 



ON PATROL 

such terrible agony that we hoped he would die 
and be released. He and the others were car- 
ried to Vasilichi, where they were turned over 
to the regimental medical corps. 

It was getting dark and we felt that we were 
entitled to a rest, but word came from Colonel 
Karpovitch, the new commander of the regi- 
ment, that our company was to proceed some 
few miles nearer to the river and camp in the 
forest all night as a reserve. During the night 
new orders were received. We rejoined the 
regiment, which moved forward in the direction 
of the river, and, coming to an estate, we were 
ordered to occupy it. 

The regiment filled the estate, but our com- 
pany had no chance to rest. Podporutchik Lav- 
ronsev and four men, including myself, started 
immediately on patrol. Entering a forest, Lav- 
ronsev used me as a sort of bodyguard. He 
seemed to be afraid of his own shadow. We 
knew that German patrols were in the vicinity 
and it was only a question of time before a skir- 
mish was inevitable. 

Coming to a little hut, Lavronsev sent two 
men forward to inspect it. We sat back about 
half a mile away and watched them. 

Our two men rode up to the hut cautiously, 
jumped off their horses several hundred yards 
from it, and, approaching on foot, entered it. 
They had been inside about five minutes with- 

[ 137] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

out reappearing or showing themselves at the 
window, when the thought occurred to me that 
something had happened, but I said nothing. 

When, however, another five minutes elapsed 
and still no sign of life from within, we all began 
to grow uneasy. 

"What can be the matter with those fellows! " 
Lavronsev asked, nervously, trotting his horse 
up and down. 

"Suppose we go forward and investigate, 
podporutchik? " I ventured. 

' ' No ! No ! Well stay right where we are ! ' ' 

Ten minutes more elapsed and then I was tol- 
erably sure that our men had run into trouble. 

"If the podporutchik will allow me and Wilin- 
ski to go to the rescue of our comrades, there 
may still be a chance to save them!' 1 

"No, Iogolevitch, I think we'll stay right 
where we are," the coward replied, trembling as 
he spoke. 

"Very well, podporutchik, I will go alone, and 
Wilinski here will remain with you!" 

Without waiting for his yea or nay I took off 
my sword and handed it to Wilinski, and started 
for the hut. 

Within a hundred feet of it I stopped for a 
moment to listen carefully, but the beating of 
my heart was all I heard. 

I crept a little closer, and then a deep groan, 
as from a man in pain, sent the blood to my 

[138] 



ON PATROL 

head, and, pointing my revolver at the door of 
the hut, I sprang toward it. 

Placing my hand on the handle lightly, I 
turned it, but then changed my mind and threw 
myself flat on the ground, with my body away 
from the door, which I pushed open with the 
muzzle of my revolver. 

As the door slowly opened on its hinges some- 
thing heavy struck it, as though those inside had 
imagined that I was walking in and had aimed 
a heavy blow at me. 

• From my position on the ground I fired 
through the open door. There came a volley 
of shots in return, and I decided that I was out- 
numbered and that it would be idiotic for me to 
attempt to enter the place single-handed. 

I backed toward the forest, firing as I re- 
treated, and, seeing what was happening, Wilin- 
ski opened fire on the hut, too. The effect of 
our fire was to keep the Huns in the hut and it 
allowed me to rejoin the officer and Wilinski. 

"The three of us together would have a 
chance against the place, podporutchik" I sug- 
gested, excitedly. 

"I am ready, podporutchik, "-Wilinski chimed in. 

"No, boys, I guess we'll leave bad enough 
alone. Follow me!" and, turning his horse's 
head in the opposite direction, we retraced our 
steps along the forest trail and returned to the 
estate to report the sad result of our adventure. 

[ 1 39] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

As we were getting up the next morning 
some one ran into the hut and told us excitedly 
that the men we had lost yesterday had re- 
turned. 

"They were brought in on a farm truck by 
a Lithuanian this morning," our informer de- 
clared. "He said he had been held up by some 
Germans on the road and had been ordered to 
convey the bodies to us. You can see them 
outside if you want to." 

None of us were particularly anxious to see 
the remains of our unlucky comrades, but half 
an hour later, when we left our huts to fetch our 
horses, we couldn't help it. The bodies were 
lying on the ground right outside our door. 

When I saw the gruesome sight a feeling of 
hatred and revenge such as I had never experi- 
enced in my life before came over me. ' 

The skin of the victims was cut to pieces with 
a knife, the leg of one of them had been removed, 
the arms were three-quarters severed, the eyes 
had been pulled out of their sockets, and the 
skulls were fractured ! It was an eloquent exhi- 
bition of German Kultur. 

I ran to the stable, clenched my fists in anger, 
and promised myself that I would make those 
Huns pay for their savagery. The temper of 
the others was similarly aroused, and when I 
saw Stassie, his eyes full of fire, I knew he had 
some desperate plan in mind. 

[ uo 1 



ON PATROL 

" Give me your revolver, Paul !"he whispered. 
"I think I'm going to need it. You needn't say 
anything about it, either." 

I gave him the weapon without attracting 
attention, and he hastened away, without telling 
any one where he was going or what he was 
going for. 

I didn't realize till a moment later that per- 
haps my place was by his side, and when I got 
up to overtake him a piece of paper fell from my 
knees. 

It was a scribbled note from Stassie, and read : 

Dear Paul: 

If I am not back by six o'clock to-morrow morning, 
don't bother to save . breakfast for me. You can then 
report to Lavronsev that my horse may be used as a 
reserve. If this is good-by, I wish you good luck! 

Stassie. 

What desperate plan had he embarked on? 
Why hadn't he confided in me and let me share 
his danger with him! 

I was so angry I felt like reporting his absence 
at once and having a searching-party sent out 
for him, but I soon swallowed my disappoint- 
ment, realizing that Stassie was simply per- 
forming his duty as he saw it. 

At supper I overheard some remarks about 
Stassie's unaccountable absence, but I kept my 
10 [ 141 ] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

mouth shut. Then Sergeant Pirov began to 
get angry about it. 

"That fellow Stassie has gone too far with his 
jokes this time!" he threatened. "I'll report 
him if it costs him his life. Absence without 
leave don't mean nothing to him at all. Who's 
going to take care of his mount, eh? I ain't, I 
know that." 

"I'll take care of Stassie's horse, sergeant," I 
volunteered. "I guess he must have met with 
an accident somewhere, or something." 

"Well, he'll meet with something worse than 
an accident when he gets back, I'm telling you. 
He's gone far enough and I ain't going to stand 
for it!" 

At nightfall we were ordered to leave the 
estate. As I saddled my horse I wondered how 
I was going to cover Stassie's absence and at 
the same time arrange so that when he returned 
to the estate he would know where we had gone. 
I figured it could not be done, and so I went to 
Lavronsev and reported that, while Stassie's 
horse was on hand, Stassie himself was absent. 

"Something has undoubtedly detained him, 
podporutchik" I pointed out. "He may be 
back any moment. Will the podporutchik allow 
me to remain behind to wait for him? " 

"No, Iogolevitch, you'll do no such thing. 
Stanislav will have to take care of himself. 
You'll march with the rest of your company!" 

[ 142] 



ON PATROL 

I didn't ride with the rest of the company! 
Instead, I rode off to a far corner of the estate, 
and when the signal came to assemble I remained 
where I was. I had found out where the com- 
pany was headed for, and I was in hopes that 
Stassie would return in time to allow us to over- 
take it before it had gotten very far. 

After the regiment was out of the estate I 
returned to the stable to keep company with 
Stassie's mount and Waskia, my own. It was 
mighty monotonous waiting. As the hours went 
by Stassie's mare — he had named her Paula, 
after me — became restless, and, knowing the in- 
tuition of animals, I got the feeling that some- 
thing had happened to her master. 

"Do you think your crazy master has gone 
away for good, Paula?" I argued with her. 
"Do you think he has deserted us and will 
never come back to make us laugh at his silly 
jokes? No such luck, Paula, no such luck!" 

But what if Stassie should not come back? 
The thought filled me with terror and sent cold 
chills down my spine. That would be a blow I 
could not endure. Brave Stassie! Kind Stas- 
sie! Strong Stassie! What a lot I owed him! 
Stassie not come back! 

The fact that the estate might now be entered 
by German patrols, who were probably aware 
that our regiment had left it, presented itself 
to me as a strong possibility. I decided to 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

saddle the horses and get them ready for a quick 
get-away if the necessity for sudden night should 
arise. Then I lay down and waited. 

It was no use trying to sleep, I could not 
close my eyes until they had once again set on 
Stassie. All through the night I kept my lonely 
vigil — I and the two horses. 

When morning came I took care of the horses, 
ate some black bread for my breakfast, and then 
climbed a high tree to watch for Stassie. 

It must have been about seven o'clock when 
I observed three Germans suddenly emerge from 
behind a clump of trees. They were apparently 
running toward me. I reached for my rifle, 
which was slung across my shoulders. It would 
have been a simple matter for me to have picked 
off the three Huns, but I did not know how 
many more of them were behind the clump of 
trees. The wiser policy seemed to be to jump 
from the tree, mount my horse, and gallop off 
before they had a chance to fire on me. 

I was still debating which was the better 
course to follow when I noticed that the Ger- 
mans were advancing toward me in a most un- 
usual manner. Closer observation revealed that 
the reason for the peculiar gyrations they were 
exhibiting was — Stassie! There was no mis- 
taking his tall, slim figure. With a revolver in 
each hand he was covering the three Huns, and 
to let them know that he was right behind them 

[144] 



ON PATROL 

he kept hitting first one and then the other 
across the back of the neck — a program which 
fully accounted for the peculiar steps of his 
prisoners. 

I jumped from the tree without further hesi- 
tation and hastened forward to relieve Stassie 
of one of his prisoners. We lined them up 
against a tree with hands upraised, and while I 
kept them covered Stassie went through their 
pockets. Every good find he registered with a 
blow, and I know that all the time he was thinking 
of our poor comrades who had suffered so terribly 
at the hands of the Huns two days before. 

Then we tied the three of them together, hands 
downward, and, keeping them between our 
horses, started off to rejoin our regiment. Not 
a word could I get out of Stassie as to how 
he had come to make the capture, nor did he 
ever explain it to me. 

As we rode along slowly, retarded by our 
prisoners, Stassie burst into some impromptu 
lines to the following effect: 

" Three Huns captured 

Means three Huns more, 
Three more hungry mouths to feed 

Than we had before. 
Think we better let them go ; 
We don't really need them. 
Capture is too good for them. 
I'd rather fight than feed them " 
[145] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

Nevertheless, we did riot release our prisoners, 
but delivered them proudly to Captain Solntsef , 
and we got a severe reprimand for our pains. 
In the army, as I had long since found out, the 
end does not justify the means, and we were 
warned by our commander that we were to be 
severely dealt with because of our absence with- 
out leave. 

Although the captain offered Stassie no word 
of praise "for his remarkable capture, our com- 
rades, whom we found in the stable, were more 
appreciative. They made him tell over and 
over again how he had brought his prisoners in, 
but he wouldn't disclose how he happened to 
capture them in the first place. 

Our horses put to rest, we decided to take some 
ourselves. We certainly needed it. After the 
sleepless night I had spent I was about all in, 
and Stassie was in no better condition. 

Unfortunately, however, our officers did not 
see that we were entitled to any particular con- 
sideration. We had been absent without leave, 
and they were going to make us suffer for it. 

Just as we were about to turn in the podporut- 
chik entered our hut and ordered Stassie and me 
to join several others of our men and proceed 
with them to a post on the banks of a river some 
fifteen miles away from our quarters. 

"You will leave your horses behind!" he 
added. 

[i 4 6] 



ON PATROL 

The fifteen miles' trudge took us several 
hours. When we reached the point designated 
we found a row of huts about one hundred and 
fifty yards our side of the river. 

As the Germans were in possession of an es- 
tate on the opposite bank of the river, we felt 
that these huts would make an ideal stronghold 
for us, but as we entered one of them a shot 
came through the wall — not from the other side 
of the river, but from the direction of a woodpile 
on our side. 

Evidently the Huns were on both sides of the 
river. It was necessary for us to keep constant 
watch, although it was a case of listening rather 
than watching, because of the blackness of the 
night. 

When daylight came we shifted our position 
to the hut nearest the woodpile, two of us re- 
maining on guard at the window all day long, 
relieving each other at half -hour intervals. 

There were several opportunities during the 
day for us to pick off careless Huns who from 
time to time exposed themselves in the vicinity 
of the woodpile, but our orders were to watch 
the enemy, not to harass him. Nevertheless, it 
was mighty hard to resist the temptation to fire 
on the easy target which the Huns provided at 
three hundred yards. 

All we had to eat that day was the reserve 
bread we carried in our pockets, and when night 

[147] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

came we felt pretty miserable. It was useless 
to maintain a watch at the window at night, and 
so we took it in turns to crawl to a point within 
one hundred yards of the woodpile, from which 
vantage-point we were in a better position to 
hear what was going on. A heavy rain had 
begun to fall and the ground was soaked through, 
which made our task particularly disagreeable; 
and we waited impatiently for the morning, 
when we expected to be relieved. 

Morning came at last, but the relief didn't. 

"It's all right for them to starve you and 
Stassie to death for absence without leave," one 
of our comrades complained, "but why should 
they hand it to the rest of us? " 

There was logic in that, but none of us could 
supply the answer. Our clothes wet and our 
stomachs empty, we were in pretty bad shape. 
Our morale was at a low ebb. If the Huns had 
surrounded us at that time, I think we would 
have surrendered without much of a fight. 
Human nature is human nature, and when 
you're hungry and cold and dead for sleep, and 
on top of it all you feel that you are being treated 
unjustly, your patriotism does get a severe jolt, 
and it is just as well to admit it. 

"In one of these huts there must be potatoes 
or something, ' ' one of the men suggested. ' ' The 
poor fellows who abandoned them when the 
Huns made things too hot for them couldn't 

[148 J 



ON PATROL 

possibly have taken everything with them. Isn't 
it worth while doing some foraging?" 

The idea struck me as being a good one, and 
I volunteered to strip off my uniform and, in 
my sailor-suit, make my way through the forest 
to a hut on the other side of the woodpile which 
seemed to be less dilapidated than the ones we 
were occupying, and, besides, had a promising sort 
of outhouse such as is usually employed for the 
storage of grain, vegetables, and other supplies. 

I put my plan into action at once, feeling that 
if I fell into the hands of Hun patrols I might 
possibly pass myself off as a Russian civilian 
and be allowed to go unmolested. 

I reached the vegetable-shed without inci- 
dent and in one corner of it I ran across a stack 
of potatoes. My pockets were neither large 
enough nor secure enough to hold the precious 
treasure. They were full of holes. Somewhere 
in the place, however, I hoped to find a sack or 
a piece of cloth which I could turn into a bag. 

Near the door I thought I saw something of 
the kind and walked toward it. As I did so, I 
observed a form moving through the forest in 
my direction. 

My heart jumped to my throat. I was un- 
armed and weak from hunger, and even if the 
man in the forest were similarly unequipped, in 
my present condition I would be unable to put 
up much of a fight. 

[H9] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

Leaning against the wall was the handle of 
a dilapidated shovel. It looked hefty and I 
seized it. It was better than nothing. Then, 
pushing open the door of the hut, I entered and 
waited for the Hun to follow me — for I felt sure 
that the advancing figure was that of a German 
patrol. 

Through the crack of the door, where it 
swung upon its hinges, I could see the man ad- 
vancing, and, as he cleared the woods, I saw that 
he was indeed a German soldier! He came 
toward the hut cautiously, but I* expected him 
at any moment to rush the place and, with re- 
volver in hand, demand my surrender. 

I was mistaken. He walked right past the 
door and made for an adjoining hut, which he 
entered. 

With ,a sigh of relief, I put down the shovel- 
handle and decided to get away as fast as I could, 
carrying as many of the potatoes as my blouse 
would hold, but just as I was about to carry this 
plan into execution it occurred to me that the 
Hun might have passed right by merely as a 
ruse to get me to come out, and that as soon as 
I crossed the threshold a shot from his revolver 
might welcome me. The best thing to do was 
to stand pat. 

A moment later I saw a movement at the sky- 
light of the hut which the German had entered. 
There came a red flash as though some one were 

[iSo] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

signaling from it. This was repeated several 
times, and then the door of the hut opened and 
the Hun came out. 

Again I grabbed the shovel-handle, but the 
man made direct for the forest, and, after wait- 
ing for five or six minutes, I decided it was safe 
for me to resume my search for a sack in which 
to carry back a supply of the much-needed 
potatoes which I knew my comrades were anx- 
iously awaiting. 

The ground floor of the hut in which I had 
taken refuge was in the usual state of disorder 
that we found whenever we entered these places. 
Not finding what I wanted there, I turned tow- 
ard a flight of stairs which led to a second story 
or attic, and decided, although not without some 
misgivings, to go up and explore. 

It was dark, and I lighted a match to see where 
I was going. At the head of the stairs there was 
a large room. In it I saw two tables, each cov- 
ered with a cloth. There was the very thing I 
wanted — one of those table-cloths ! As I snatched 
it from the table I detected a strange movement 
of the other table-cloth, as though there were 
some one hiding under it! 

Without further investigation I sprang for the 
door and flew down the stairs, my speed hastened 
by a terrifying sight that met my eyes. The 
stairs were in flames ! The match I had lighted 
and thrown away had evidently fallen upon a 

[152] 



ON PATROL 

pile of rubbish at the foot of the staircase and 
the woodwork was now ablaze and smoke was 
spreading through the place. 

Just as I reached the door I heard footsteps 
above, then a few muttered curses, and the next 
moment I was down in a heap. Some one had 
jumped the full flight of stairs and landed upon 
my back. I felt the powerful grasp of a strong 
hand at my throat and everything turned black. 

Something burning fell on my cheek, and 
then my assailant loosened his grip, and as I 
opened my eyes I saw him jump for the door, 
his hair a mass of flames ! 

Bursting through the door, I blew my scout- 
whistle as loud as I could. A single blast was 
our signal to shoot at whatever target presented 
itself. Instantly I heard shots from various 
directions. Evidently our men as well as the 
Germans across the river were blazing away 
blindly as a result of my signal. 

Shots were coming in my direction and I 
crawled along the ground to escape them. Com- 
ing to a brick well, I knelt behind it for a 
moment's rest, but the bricks were loose and 
my weight was too much for them. Splash I 
went down the well! 

Fortunately the well was not more than eight 
or nine feet deep, with only three or four feet of 
water in it, but the cement sides were so slimy 
that, try as I might, I could not get out. 

[153] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

I blew my whistle as loud as I could, hoping 
that my comrades would find some way of 
locating me, for it was quite clear to me that 
without outside help I would drown like a rat in 
this dirty well! 

I must have been in the well about four hours 
when I heard voices above me. It was about 
four o'clock in the afternoon and already dark. 
I was not sure whether the voices came from 
friend or foe, but capture by the Germans would 
be better than the slow death which must in- 
evitably be my doom if I remained in the well, 
and, deciding to take a chance, I blew my 
whistle with all the strength I could summon. 

A moment later a voice from the top of the 
well called to me in Russian: "Don't worry, 
Paul. We'll have you out in a jiffy!" 

A moment or two later I was being hauled to 
the top by means of a rope which had been 
lowered to me. There I found myself in the 
hands of men from our third company, who 
explained that they had relieved my own com- 
rades at noon and had been told of the mission 
upon which I had departed and from which I 
had not returned. 

I was taken back to the hut which our men 
were occupying and given some hot tea and 
bread, and while I was eating and drinking I 
learned that the blast from my whistle had pre- 
cipitated a. hot fight between our men and the 

I ^4] 



ON PATROL 

German patrols, and that the Huns had been 
forced to flee across the river. The man who 
had fled from the hut with his hair afire, they 
told me, had made a plain target and had been 
shot. On his body they had found notes regard- 
ing our forces and a map of the surrounding 
country, indicating that he was a German .spy. 

After I was through with my meal I told the 
men about the potatoes which nearly cost me 
my life, and a couple of men were sent to the 
shed to get a supply of them. The potatoes 
they brought back were cooked! The fire from 
the hut had spread to the shed and burned it 
to the ground, and while some of the potatoes 
were burned to a crisp, others were just cooked 
right, and they tasted wonderfully good to us. 

Later the men from my company returned 
from a search they had been making for me in 
the woods. When they saw me, attired again 
in my uniform and apparently none the worse 
for my experience, they could hardly believe 
their eyes. 

"What kind of trick is this you've played on 
us, you young scoundrel?" shouted Stassie, try- 
ing to look angry, but unable to conceal the 
pleasure he apparently felt at finding me safe 
and sound. "Here we've wasted our relief - 
hours searching the forest with a magnifying- 
glass for you, and you're here all the time 
feeding your face! Holy Peter! I've a good 

[i5S] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

mind to brain you — but before I do tell me 
what happened to you!" 

Again I told my day's adventures, and then I 
retired to a corner of the hut and tried to get 
some sleep, but the excitement of the day made 
it difficult. 

The next morning our company was recalled 
to the regiment. We found the place com- 
pletely intrenched and occupied by large forces 
of our infantry. We were getting ready, ap- 
parently, to attack the Germans across the river, 
and in the mean while there was very little for 
us to do. 

We built camp-fires and had a real dinner, 
the regimental kitchen having arrived, and after 
our meal we each received a fresh supply of 
underwear which had come through from the 
Red Cross. It was the first chance we had 
had to change since we had left Urany! 

As Stassie expressed it, "If we don't need the 
change, perhaps the vermin do!" 



X 

THE BATTLE OF SAVENDIKI 

AT midnight we were aroused and ordered to 
** saddle our horses and prepare for a march. 
We started off in the direction of Shavli. 

After some three or four hours' ride we came 
to an estate about two miles from a river. Be- 
tween the estate and the river was a village. 
Our regimental headquarters was established in 
the estate, and after putting up our horses in 
the estate stables we were ordered to continue, 
on foot, to the village, where we were to relieve 
the infantry force stationed there. 

As we marched along, our engineers unwound 
telephone wires, stringing them along the road 
so that we would have direct communication 
with our headquarters. 

The village was surrounded by trenches, and 
we learned from some of the infantrymen whom 
we relieved that directly across the river was the 
village of Savendiki, which was held by a strong 
force of Germans. The Huns were maintaining 
a heavy guard along their side of the river. 
11 [157] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

Captain Panunsev was in charge of our four 
squadrons, the colonel having remained on the 
estate. 

As soon as we arrived in the village half of our 
men were sent into the trenches, the others 
remaining in reserve. Stassie was among the 
latter. I was detailed as the captain's aide. 
The hut he selected as his headquarters was right 
in front of a cemetery. 

All day long I had a feeling of impending 
danger. There was little or no firing on either 
side, but the air was tense and something told 
me that trouble was in the wind. In the evening 
when the watch was changed I accompanied 
the captain on a tour of the trenches, and he 
warned all the officers and men to keep on the 
alert. Whether or not he had information that 
the Huns were planning an attack or he planned 
to cross the river and attack them during the 
night, I don't know, but it was quite evident to 
me that something was brewing. 

When we got back to the hut my suspicions 
were confirmed. 

' ' Better not remove your uniform, Iogolevitch, ' ' 
the captain suggested, as I was about to turn in 
for the night. "We may be called suddenly in 
the night and there won't be time to dress!" 

Then he flung himself down on the cot that 
had been provided for him, and I followed his 
example. 

[158] 



THE BATTLE OF SAVENDIKI 

Why didn't he tell me what was in store for 
us? If a battle was scheduled for the night, 
why couldn't he give me at least an hour or two 
to think about it? These were the questions 
that I turned over and over in my mind as I lay 
on my cot. I knew how necessary it was to 
guard military information of this character, 
lest by some underground channel it leaked 
through to the enemy, but I couldn't help feeling 
a little hurt that I, the captain's aide, had not 
been taken into his confidence. Still nursing 
this unwarranted grievance, I fell off to sleep. 

It must have been several hours later when I 
was awakened by a crash at our door, followed 
almost instantly by the sound of bullets striking 
the wall of the hut. Panunsev and I both 
scrambled from our cots and lay flat on the 
floor. The next second a bullet came crashing 
through the window and, passing over the cot 
upon which the captain had been sleeping, 
plowed through the opposite wall. Had it arrived 
a second or two earlier it would undoubtedly 
have accounted for the captain! 

We crawled to the door, opened it, and got 
out. Our men in the village were established 
on the roofs of the huts and were maintaining a 
hot fire against the Huns across the river, and 
the activity in our trenches was very heavy. 

"They're using four or five machine-guns!" 
the captain asserted. "Get back to our room, 

[i59] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

Iogolevitch, and get my revolver and your 
piece!" 

I sprang into the hut and reached for the 
revolver that was lying on the table. As I 
grasped it, a bullet came through the window 
and shot into smithereens a glass which had been 
standing right next to the captain's pistol. 
• Hastening back to Panunsev, I handed him 
his revolver and stood by his side in the lee of 
the hut. Two of our men came running toward 
us, bending so low that they passed right by us. 

"Where're you going, there!" yelled the cap- 
tain. "Turnback!" 

Above the banging of the rifles and machine- 
guns, the men heard the captain's order and 
wheeled around. 

"We're being attacked, captain, by a force 
three times as large as ours!" one of the men 
reported, breathlessly. "Podporutchik Lavron- 
sev awaits your orders!" 

"Tell the podporutchik to hold the position at 
all costs! I will send reinforcements!" And 
then he directed me to pick up as many of the 
men who were shooting from the roof-tops as I 
could and send them forward to report to the 
podporutchik in the trenches. Then I was to 
report to the captain at once at the hut at the 
extreme end of the village — which was the near- 
est building to the trenches. 

I started off excitedly on my mission. I 
[ 160 ] 



THE BATTLE OF SAVENDIKI 

realized that serious work was ahead of me this 
night, and I was inwardly praying that I might 
prove equal to it. 

Having sent forward some twenty-five men, 
I made my way to the captain. He was lying 
prone at the spot he had indicated, studying the 
German front through his glasses, but, while 
day was beginning to break, it was still too dark 
to see very far. Across the river, with my 
naked eye, I could see a black mass, and I took 
that as my target as I lay down beside the 
captain and started pounding away with my 
carbine. 

"Take this to the telephone-operator," the 
captain ordered, handing me a message that he 
had scribbled on a piece of paper. 

I put up my gun and hurried to the hut where 
the operator was stationed. I found him on the 
floor, with the receiver at his ear, writing down 
a message that was coming through. I gave 
him my message and he told me that he had just 
sent a messenger to the captain. 

When I got back the captain was talking to 
an officer and four men from another squadron. 
He seemed nervous and felt in his pockets for 
a cigarette. 

"Go back to my hut and get my cigarettes 
and matches," he commanded as I came up. 
"I must have left them on the table." 

Remembering my narrow escape when I re- 
[161] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

turned to the hut before for his revolver, I 
thought it extremely unreasonable for him, to 
subject me to this unnecessary danger for the 
sake of a cigarette, but of course I did as I was 
bid. Bending low, I reached the hut in safety, 
although a number of bullets struck the place 
while I was in it. 

When I got back word came that our machine- 
gun fire from the estates was not reaching the 
enemy. 

"Telephone headquarters that the machine- 
gunners are shooting short!" he yelled, and 
when I reached the operator, thinking to save 
time, I grabbed the instrument from his hand 
and shouted the captain's message through, and 
before the startled operator could protest I was 
on my way back. 

A quarter of an hour later we received word 
that the men in the trenches had ammunition 
enough to last but another half -hour, and we 
sent word to our headquarters to rush a further 
supply to us. 

Just then I noticed an officer on his way tow- 
ard us. He was bending low, but when he was 
within a few feet of us a bullet caught him in 
the back and he dropped. His body contracted 
convulsively, his hands clutched at his breast, 
and he uttered some queer sounds. We sprang 
toward him and dragged him to our position in 
the shelter of the house. He was trying to say 

[162] 



THE BATTLE OF SAVENDIKI 

something, but couldn't talk. With an effort 
that seemed to cause him excruciating agony 
he raised his arm and pointed to one side. Look- 
ing in the direction he indicated, we noticed a 
dark spot moving in the distance. 

The captain caught up his field-glasses. " They 
are fresh forces!" he cried. "They're going to 
surround us." As he lowered his glass a volley 
of machine-gun bullets came from the new direc- 
tion, and he directed me to notify headquarters 
and tell them to send forward some of their 
machine-guns. 

I met the operator half-way. He was coming 
toward me as fast as he could run. 

"The wires are cut! I can get no connec- 
tion!" he shouted, excitedly. 

I returned with him to the captain and de- 
livered the bad news. Calling three soldiers, 
he ordered them to make their way as fast as 
they could to headquarters and deliver the 
message. 

Ten minutes later one of them returned, say- 
ing that it was impossible to get through. 

"The Huns are concentrating their fire on the 
road, captain," he explained. "My two com- 
panions fell. I thought it best to come back, 
because if I proceeded and got caught — which 
seemed inevitable — you would wait in vain for 
the machine-guns ! A number of our men carry- 
ing ammunition were lying dead on the road." 

1 163] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 



*t 



Curse the Huns! I'll make them pay two 
for one before I'm through!" the captain ex- 
claimed. 

"I'll get to headquarters, captain," I declared, 
stirred to action by the captain's vim, and, 
without waiting for his permission, I turned in 
the direction of the road, clenched my teeth, 
and started to run like a madman, not even 
taking the precaution to bend low. I figured 
that if I was doomed to get one of those bullets, 
bending low wouldn't save me, and I could make 
better time in a natural position. I didn't 
loiter on the way. There was a hot fire all 
along the road, but somehow I got through 
and delivered my message to headquarters. 
Sixty men and two machine-guns were immedi- 
ately ordered to the village, and the other ma- 
chine-guns were turned in the direction of the 
new enemy positions, which kept some of the 
German fire off the road. 

As I hurried along I heard a cry from one of 
the men lying in the road. As I stooped down 
to him he pointed to a box of ammunition that 
he had been carrying to us when he was struck 
down. 

"Finish the trip for me, boy!" he whispered. 
"I'm all in. Tell the porutchik I — did — my — 
best — but — " A fit of coughing prevented him 
from finishing the sentence. I turned him over 
to free his throat from some of the blood that 

[164] 



THE BATTLE OF SAVENDIKI 

was clogging it, and at that very moment a bul- 
let struck him in the face and finished him! I 
lay flat on the ground for a moment, stunned by 
the shock, and then I crept over to the box of 
bullets and started for the village, dragging the 
box after me. 

As I reached the captain a sergeant was ex- 
plaining that the enemy was evidently planning to 
surround not only the village, but the estate, too. 

"Will the captain trust me with one hundred 
and fifty men and one machine-gun?" I vent- 
ured, an idea striking me as the sergeant fin- 
ished his report. "I think I see a way out." 

Much to my surprise, without even asking 
for particulars, the captain consented, and I 
ran to a trench which my own company was 
sharing with about a hundred men from other 
companies. 

"We're in a bad fix, men," I yelled. "I have 
just come from headquarters. If we're willing 
to take a chance, though, I think we can save 
the regiment. Are you willing, men?" 

Led by Stassie, who stopped firing long enough 
to hear what I had to say, they declared enthu- 
siastically that they were ready for anything. 

Sending ten men to the cemetery to get a 
machine-gun and as many bullet-ribbons as they 
could carry, I ran back to the captain and told 
him that in ten minutes he could order a retire- 
ment from the trenches to the estate. 

[165] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

When I returned to the trench the machine- 
gun had already been placed in position. Then 
I ordered the men to cease firing. A moment 
or two later came two shrill blasts from our 
commander's whistle, which was repeated by 
our lieutenants in all our trenches. At the sig- 
nal our men left their trenches and made off in 
the direction of the estate — all except those who 
had volunteered to remain with me in the sec- 
tion of the line which it was my plan to hold. 

As the enemy observed our men leaving the 
trenches in full retreat, they came over the top, 
crossed the river on pontoons, and made direct 
for our trenches. The route they selected was 
naturally one which subjected them to the 
least amount of fire from the estate, but it was 
directly in the line of fire from the trench which 
we still occupied and in which we were breath- 
lessly biding our time. 

Onward they came — a clear field apparently 
before them — their foe in full retreat. We 
waited until they were almost on top of us — until 
we could hear the shouts of their leaders, and 
then we let them have it! Our machine-gun 
and our rifles let out a burst of bullets that 
mowed down the onrushing Huns like wheat 
before the scythe! Those who, by some strange 
miracle, escaped our stream of lead realized that 
they had fallen into an ambush and beat a hasty 
retreat to their old positions. A moment or two 

[ 166I 



THE BATTLE OF SAVENDIKI 

later, however, after their leaders had apparently 
sized up our probable strength and come to the 
conclusion that we were merely fighting a rear- 
guard action, they came at us again. 

This time they advanced more cautiously — 
running a few yards, then dropping to the 
ground and giving us a volley, and then rushing 
another few yards. 

Again we waited for them and then let them 
have another withering fire. The line wavered 
for a moment and then came on. It was evi- 
dent that they were determined to break 
through, irrespective of the cost, and, as they 
outnumbered us perhaps fifteen to one, I real- 
ized that we could not possibly hold them 
back if they were willing to pay the price. 
This time we lacked the advantage of surprise. 
The Huns knew exactly where we were located 
and what they had to expect from us. The 
Hun leaders never hesitated to sacrifice their 
men to gain an objective. 

Such was my train of thought as I kept pound- 
ing away at the advancing line, and now, here 
they were! 

As they neared our parapet it seemed that 
the whole German army was coming at us. 
Their leaders jumped feet foremost into our 
trench. They threw no grenades. Perhaps they 
figured they could just trample us to death ! In 
the hand-to hand fighting that ensued our quar- 

[167] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

ters were so close that it was almost impossible to 
swing a rifle. It was a case of jab and stab, and 
our men were masters at that form of fighting. 

We made it so hot for the Huns who were un- 
fortunate enough to land in our trench, and our 
gunners wrought such execution among those 
who followed them, that after four or five min- 
utes of the most ferocious fighting I had ever 
witnessed we had the satisfaction of seeing the 
enemy fall back a second time. 

Our triumph, I realized, would be short-lived. 
It would be only a few minutes before the Huns, 
stung to madness by our resistance, would be 
at us again, and this time they would un- 
doubtedly down us. We had already lost about 
one- third of our men, many of whom were lying 
in our trenches, dreadfully wounded, and our 
action had already achieved its purpose — the 
regiment had successfully reached the estate. 
The time had come to retire. That was the 
problem that now confronted me. To retreat 
all at once would have meant annihilation at 
the hands of the enemy, who were undoubtedly 
watching our every movement. 

Ordering Stassie to retire with thirty men, I 
ordered our machine-gun and remaining rifles 
to keep up a constant fire to cover their retreat. 
It worked so well that a moment or two later, 
before the Huns could realize what we were at, 
I started thirty more men off. 

[168] 



THE BATTLE OF SAVENDIKI 

Then the Huns woke up. Again they started 
for us — this time seeking little cover and coming 
right at their goal. They realized, of course, 
that if they didn't get to us quickly they would 
find an empty trench when they arrived. 

Our machine-gun was put out of action, and 
our rifle-fire was too thin to make any impres- 
sion on the advancing ranks. 

"Cease firing and run for your lives!" I 
shouted, jumping out of the trench and heading 
in the direction of the estate. 

There were about thirty of us when we started, 
but our numbers dwindled every moment, one 
falling after another. We were nearly through 
the village when I saw that we would inevitably 
be overtaken before we could reach the estate, 
and I darted into the last hut in the village 
street and was followed by the rest of my little 
force — now reduced to seventeen, including 
myself, most of them more or less wounded. 

We slammed the door shut and hastily ex- 
amined what we fully believed would prove our 
slaughter-house. The Huns were almost on our 
heels and there didn't seem to be a chance in the 
world that we should ever emerge from our place 
of temporary refuge. 

Breathless, covered with dirt, smoke, and 
blood, which made our tense faces appear 
ghastly, desperate — many of us smarting from 
wounds which up till then we had been unable 

1 169] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

even to examine — we were, nevertheless, de- 
termined to fight to the last. I heard not a sug- 
gestion of despair or discouragement. Brave 
muzhiks, they were unmindful of pain and they 
had no fear of death! 

"Look here!" shouted one of them, pointing 
to a trap -door in the center of the floor and pro- 
ceeding to open it. Without loss of time, we 
tumbled down the stairs, which led to the cellar, 
and pulled the trap -door shut over us. 

Some one lit a match and, in the corner of the 
cellar, sitting on a barrel, the flicker revealed 
an old man with a long white beard. 

I rushed over to him and shook him by the 
shoulder to bring him to his senses. He seemed 
completely dazed. I spoke to him in Russian 
and then in German without getting any re- 
sponse. Then I tried a Jewish jargon, and he 
revealed that he was the owner of the hut and 
had hid himself in the cellar as soon as the battle 
started. 

"Go up-stairs and wait until the Germans 
come!" I ordered. 

If I had threatened to deliver him over to the 
enemy for execution he could not have displayed 
more alarm. Falling upon his knees, he pleaded 
for mercy. 

"Get up!" I commanded, "and do what I 
tell you! If the Huns find you up-stairs, where 
you ought to be, they won't hurt you, but if 

[170] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

they search the place and find you down here 
with us, we'll all be massacred together! Hurry 
now, and do all you can to keep them from com- 
ing down here!" 

Trembling all over, the old man climbed the 
creaking stairs and promised to do his best. 

It must have been nearly half an hour later 
when we heard heavy footsteps above, as 
though a crowd of men had entered the 
place. There were loud, stern voices, to which 
we heard the thin, frightened voice of the old 
Jew replying. 

With bayonets and revolvers directed against 
the trap -door, we waited breathlessly the result 
of the old man's diplomacy — or treachery — we 
did not know which to expect — and then, to our 
intense relief, we heard the intruders leave the 
hut. The old man had played square! 

There was quiet above for a little while and 
then the trap-door opened and the old man 
threw us down some bread and a leather port- 
folio which one of the German officers had evi- 
dently left in the room. It was full of maps and 
papers, including a Russian map showing the 
disposition of our forces in this section of the 
front, and a partially completed translation of 
it. I confiscated the papers, and when the old 
man opened the door again and whispered that 
there was one German patrolling the house and 
the whole village was guarded by the Huns, we 

[ 172] 



THE BATTLE OF SAVENDIKI 

decided to take a chance in the darkness — it 
was now dusk — and make for the estate. 

We crept quietly up the stairs and got out of 
the back of the house without attracting the 
attention of the patrol in front. 

Proceeding cautiously through the vegetable- 
garden in the rear of the house, half of us had 
succeeded in getting through the rear fence 
when our blood froze in our veins at the order, 
in German: 

"Halt! Who goes there!" 

Again the challenge broke the silence of the 
night. 

This time I had found my voice, and, in as 
stern a tone as I could command, I answered, 
in German: 

"Don't yell! Ours!" 

The next second a light flashed in my face, 
but before the Hun who held it could even 
think, two of our men had jumped at his throat, 
thrown him to the ground and disposed of him, 
with hardly a sound. 

Another voice yelled, "Halt!" and there came 
a shot. 

That was our cue. We jumped and ran — ran 
faster than any of us had ever run before. A 
rocket flared up and bullets came whizzing all 
around us. I made in the direction of the forest. 
Right by my side was one of our men who had 
been shot in the arm and shoulder. We got to 
12 [173] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

the woods and waited for the others to join us, 
and then we discovered that we two were ap- 
parently the only ones who had escaped! 

Realizing that we were now safe, I opened my 
companion's coat, used his shirt as a bandage, 
and tied up his wounds. It was useless to 
attempt to find our way through the woods in 
the darkness, and Petroff:, my companion, was 
badly in need of rest, so we picked out a suitable 
spot and threw ourselves down for a few hours' 
sleep. 

During the night I heard heavy firing, but I 
paid no attention to it. I was too tired to care 
very much what it signified. Before I finally 
closed my eyes in slumber I thanked God for 
the favor He had shown me in those past twenty- 
four hours of strife and death. All around me 
my comrades had been falling, wounded or 
killed, and I, exposed to precisely the same 
dangers, had escaped unscathed! One such ex- 
perience in a lifetime is enough to convince any 
one of the inscrutability of the workings of Fate ! 

At daybreak I aroused Petroff and we started 
through the forest in the direction of our forces. 
His wounds required attention, I knew. He 
was feverish, and I feared that blood-poisoning 
would set in if we did not get medical treatment 
soon. As we plugged along, my mud-covered 
shoes caught my eye — the shoes of poor Kuzmov 
which were supposed to keep me out of danger. 

[174] 



THE BATTLE OF SAVENDIKI 

I could not help smiling at the silly superstition 
of the simple-minded muzhiks — but at any rate, 
here I was safe and — 

Crash! A shot plowed through the trees, 
right past my face. 

"Stand where you are, Petroff!" I com- 
manded to my wounded companion. "This 
must be some fool sentry's shot! Surely we 
cannot be within range of the enemy!" 

And then, from out the woods, a Russian 
soldier, with rifle raised, revealed himself. 

"You crazy idiot!" I shouted. "Why don't 
you challenge before you fire! If it were not 
for these lucky shoes I'm wearing you would 
have killed one of your own comrades!" 

The man was so upset at the tragedy he had 
so nearly brought about that I decided his care- 
lessness had been punished sufficiently and de- 
cided to say nothing further about the incident, 
cautioning Petroff against reporting it, either. 
The sentry then summoned the guard and we 
were conducted to the headquarters of the regi- 
ment — which wasn't ours — and from there we 
were escorted to our own organization. 

Captain Panunsev greeted me most effusively. 
He shook my hand and insisted that I had made 
a sad mess of the whole thing — which, I knew, 
was his way of complimenting me — and I felt 
as proud as a peacock. Then some more officers 
came around and started to question me until 

1 175 J 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

I had told the whole story about half a dozen 
times. 

Handing the maps to the captain, I asked 
where I could find Stassie and the rest of the 
company, and, being directed to a stable where 
our company was quartered, I made my way 
there without further loss of time, Petroff, in 
the mean while, having been turned over to the 
medical department. 

"Hello, deserter!" shouted Stassie, jumping 
eagerly toward me as I entered the stable and 
shaking my hand so vigorously that I had to 
smash him in the chin with my free hand in 
order to make him let go. "Now tell us what 
happened after we cleared the way for the rest 
of you to escape!" - 

I laughed at Stassie's way of putting it, and 
then told them the story. 

"I'm afraid that Petroff and I were the only 
ones who escaped alive," I concluded. "And 
yet some of the boys may even now be alive 
and suffering somewhere between that hut and 
the woods. It seems to me we ought to try to 
get the village back, and I'm — " 

"Try to get the village back!" Stassie re- 
peated. "Why, we took it during the night — 
and not only that — we drove the Huns back 
across the river!" 

Just then Podporutchik Lavronsev came in 

and reported that five of the men who had 

[i 7 6] 



THE BATTLE OF SAVENDIKI 

escaped from the cellar with me had been picked 
up wounded, but that the other ten must have 
been killed. 

After we had had breakfast we were lined up 
in front of the stable, and Captain Panunsev 
announced that he was going to recommend me 
for the St. George war-cross. The soldiers 
cheered and I felt so happy I could hardly hold 
myself, but there was no time to celebrate. 
About one hundred and fifty prisoners had to be 
conducted to an adjoining camp, and we were 
ordered to escort them. 

We formed them in line at once and started 
off with them. Most of them were dirty and 
ragged, their feet coming through their shoes. 
Some wore helmets, others wore only caps. 
Among them were four officers, who presented 
a somewhat better appearance. 

Stassie was so elated at the news that I was 
to receive a war-cross that he could not forbear 
telling the prisoners all about it, pointing to me 
and cutting a cross in the air with his saber. 

As he spoke in Russian and his gestures were 
not particularly illuminating, the Germans 
looked very dubious, imagining, undoubtedly, 
that the cross he was trying to describe meant 
that they were to be crucified and that I was 
to be their executioner — a fate which, many of 
them had possibly heard, was regularly meted 
out to German prisoners by the Russians! 

[177] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

To reassure them I explained in German 
what Stassie was saying in Russian. Hearing 
me talk German always made Stassie mad — 
not because he hated the Huns any more than 
I did, but because he always imagined that I 
was saying something at his expense. And so 
he started off at a new tangent, declaring that 
the captain had made a slight error in the an- 
nouncement, having meant to name him, 
Stassie, for the war-cross instead of me, and 
he asked one of the prisoners to confirm this, 
pinching the poor devil by the back of the 
neck to make him nod his head affirmatively. 

Delivering our prisoners to an infantry out- 
fit, we returned to our quarters. There Pod- 
porutchik Lavronsev handed me an old violin 
which some one had secured. It had but two 
strings and the bow was old, but still I was able 
to get enough out of it to amuse the men. 

In the evening I had to carry a message to 
Colonel Karpovitch, whose headquarters were 
now established in the village from which we 
had been forced to retreat the night before, but 
which our regiment had afterward recaptured. 
At Lavronsev's suggestion, I took along my 
violin. At the colonel's invitation, I played 
one or two selections, and he was so pleased that 
he asked me to join his staff at tea. 

During the meal the colonel announced that 
he had received orders from the headquarters 

[178] 



THE BATTLE OF SAVENDIKI 

of the corps to cross the river and occupy the 
village of Savendiki. 

1 ' We're going to give them a little of their own 
medicine," he commented. "There's only one 
thing that disturbs me : our aviators report that 
the entire village is surrounded by heavy artil- 
lery, which is cleverly camouflaged. I'd give 
five years of my life to learn how they ever suc- 
ceeded in getting their big guns through this 
muddy country and why, having got them in 
place, they haven't let us smell their powder!" 

"Perhaps they're running shy of ammunition 
for the big guns, colonel?" suggested one of 
the officers. "The situation on the western 
front may be such that they have decided 
to concentrate all their resources against our 
allies." 

" I don't know what the reason is," the colonel 
repeated, "but I'd very much like to find out. 
All the scouts I have assigned to the task have 
been baffled by the trenches which surround the 
village, and I confess I don't like the idea of 
crossing the river in the face of those heavy guns, 
which have probably been reserved for just such 
an attack as I contemplate." 

"Will the colonel assign me to get the infor- 
mation desired?" I volunteered, impulsively. 
"In civilian clothes, which I wear under my uni- 
form, carrying my violin, I might possibly be 
able to get into Savendiki as a civilian, secure 

[179] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

the necessary information, and get back to our 
lines again without a scratch?" 

"That's a great idea, Iogolevitch!" the colo- 
nel replied, enthusiastically. "I don't think it 
would be quite as simple a matter as you seem 
to think — there would be grave danger — but if 
you are willing to undertake the task I will give 
my consent, and if you come back alive, with 
or without the information I want, you won't 
regret it!" 

I was instructed to stay at headquarters that 
night and in the morning to report to the 
colonel for final instructions before starting off 
on my mission. 

What new dangers I had brought upon myself 
by my impulsive offer I could not foresee, but 
that night, before sleep claimed me, I thanked 
God for this new opportunity that had come to 
me to serve Russia. If my mission succeeded 
it would show my fellow-countrymen what a 
Jewish boy could achieve for his country. If it 
failed, it would demonstrate that when his 
country called, a Jewish boy was not afraid to 
die! 



XI 

WHEELLESS WAGONS AND FIRELESS GUNS 

CARLY next morning, attired in my sailor - 
■■-' suit and a hat which some one had procured 
for me in the village and which looked more 
like a lady's bonnet than a boy's cap, I reported 
at the colonel's quarters. After a short wait I 
was ordered inside and was given full instruc- 
tions as to what information would prove most 
valuable to our forces if I succeeded in getting 
behind the enemy's lines. 

Then, with my violin in its case under my 
arm, I started down the road in the direction of 
the river. I passed through our trenches — 
word having been given that I was to be allowed 
to pass unmolested — and then I followed a road 
which led to a bridge over the river. This 
bridge was in the possession of the enemy, and 
I knew it would be heavily patrolled, as it led 
to the heart of the village of Savendiki. 

As I neared the bridge I strolled along slowly, 
endeavoring to appear as unconcerned as pos- 

[181] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

sible, although the early prospect of close con- 
tact with German sentries filled me with dread. 

T sat down by the side of the road and, taking 
out my violin, I played for ten or fifteen minutes 
as though I were just amusing myself. 

Then I put my violin back in its case, got up, 
and walked straight toward the bridge. My 
heart was beating furiously, try as I could to 
remain calm, but I whistled lightly as I ap- 
proached the German soldiers, whom I could 
now clearly see and whose bayoneted guns 
looked more and more forbidding as I neared 
them. 

"Halt! Put your box down and your hands 
up!" commanded one of the two soldiers who 
advanced toward me. They spoke in German, 
but it was part of my plan to disclose that I 
understood their language, and I complied at 
once, much to their surprise. 

One of the soldiers grasped my upturned arms 
by the wrists and started to question me, while 
the other pointed his gun at me threateningly. 

"I am on my way to Savendiki," I ex- 
plained, in German. "I am a poor boy and I 
want to earn some money in the village by 
playing my violin. That is how I earn my 
living!" 

"Open that box, then, and let us see what's 
in it!" one of the men ordered, releasing my 
hands and holding his bayonet at my side as I 

[182] 



WHEELLESS WAGONS AND FIRELESS GUNS 

stooped to comply. I opened the box, took out 
the violin and showed it to them, turning it on 
all sides to convince them that it was indeed a 
musical instrument and not a camouflaged can- 
non or airplane; but even then they were not 




I AM A POOR BOY AND I WANT TO EARN SOME MONEY IN THE 
VILLAGE BY PLAYING MY VIOLIN " 



quite satisfied and ordered me to play on it to 
prove that I was indeed a violinist. 

I played a German song which I thought 
would be familiar to them. Never before had 
I realized what a great help it is to a musician 
to close his eyes while playing — but 'never 
before had I been compelled to play in such 
proximity to two glistening bayonets which 
threatened to explore my insides if I failed 
to satisfy my audience! 

"Very good!" one of the men exclaimed, be- 
grudgingly, and then turning to his comrade 

[ 183 ] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

and trying to show his knowledge of music, he 
added, "That boy has talent; if he studied and 
practised, he might really amount to some- 
thing as a violinist some day!" 

"Yes," I answered, feeling now a little re- 
lieved as I saw that I had ' ' passed the examina- 
tion," "I wouldn't be surprised if you heard of 
me again some day." I thought it rather likely 
that they would, although not as a violinist. 

One of the men took my violin and, beckoning 
me to follow him, led me over the bridge. On 
the other side we met a young lieutenant and 
about fifteen soldiers. My escort explained to 
the officer about me, and he ordered me to take 
my violin and accompany him. He started off 
toward the village, telling the soldiers that he 
would return in an hour. 

"I am very fond of music, young fellow!" the 
officer declared. "Now tell me, where did you 
study?" 

I gave him a somewhat imaginative account 
of my musical career, stating that I had studied 
in Germany under a certain professor, a man 
whose name I knew, but whom I had never 
even met. 

"Oh yes," the officer replied, "I know the 
professor very well. When did you see him 
last?" 

That was a bombshell ! It scared me so much 
that I quickly changed the subject and man- 

[184] 



WHEELLESS WAGONS AND FIRELESS GUNS 

aged, very luckily, to get out of a difficult situa- 
tion which I had gotten into quite unnecessarily. 
It taught me to be more careful in my answers 
thereafter. 

We passed patrols all along the village streets, 
but I did not notice many soldiers off duty. The 
officer led me into a hut, which seemed to be the 
most pretentious in the village, and as he entered 
the room some soldiers who were sitting there 
jumped up and saluted him. 

"Tell the colonel I would like to see him as 
soon as convenient," he ordered, and one of 
the men disappeared into an adjoining room 
and reappeared a few moments later with word 
that the lieutenant should go right in. I was 
told to wait until I was called, and, after a 
minute or two, a soldier came out and told me 
to follow him. 

He led me through two offices, in one of 
which were a number of telephone operators, 
and then we came to the colonel's room. 

He was a stout man, with straight red hair, a 
red mustache, pale skin, and small eyes which 
looked green, although they might have been 
blue and got their greenish hue from their prox- 
imity to the flaming mustache. 

For a moment or two he paid no attention to 
me, and then, looking up suddenly, he ordered 
me in a stern voice to approach him. The 
various questions he asked me I answered along 

[185] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

the lines I had previously decided upon, the 
key-note of which was to tell the truth as long 
as it was not absolutely dangerous. Truth is 
always consistent. As long as I stuck to the 
facts I would not have to charge my memory 
with my answers to guard against subsequent 
conflicting statements. It was only when I 
lied — as I had unnecessarily in the case of the 
German professor — that I made the way hard 
for myself, but a certain amount of lying was, 
of course, essential in this case. 

"I expected to earn some money in Savendiki, 
but now I see the place is in possession of Ger- 
mans, I suppose I shall have to continue on my 
wanderings — unless," I added, as an after- 
thought — "unless Herr Colonel would care to 
have me play for his staff at mess? " 

The colonel whispered to the lieutenant, whom 
he addressed as "Gross," and then declared that 
he would give me a chance to play for his officers, 
and in return would give me board and lodging 
in the village. 

The lieutenant then motioned to me to go 
with him, and as we walked out into the street 
he told me that I could stay in his hut. 

When we reached it he told me to make my- 
self at home. The home consisted of two rooms, 
one of which served as kitchen, dining-room, and 
bedroom, while the other was apparently used 
as a bedroom only. In the former, at the stove, 

[186] 



WHEELLESS WAGONS AND FIRELESS GUNS 

stood a Russian girl of about seventeen or eigh- 
teen years of age. 

"I thought officers in the army had men for 
servants?" I remarked, trying to appear igno- 
rant of the situation. 

"Yes," he replied, "we have to content our- 
selves with men most of the time, but you see 
I am luckier! " and he smiled significantly to the 
girl, who, if she understood what he said, cer- 
tainly did not seem to share his satisfaction. 
"And now I've got to return to my guard. You 
can stay here or go out in the village, whichever 
you like, but don't go beyond the village limits." 

Shortly after he left I decided to explore the 
place. Colonel Karpovitch had told me that 
even if I could not get close enough to the big 
guns to ascertain their size, I would probably 
be able to observe the kind of ammunition that 
was being used for them, and by measuring the 
shells I would know exactly the bore of the guns. 

I walked from one end of the village to the 
other, but nowhere did I see the piles of reserve 
shells that the colonel was so certain I would 
encounter. Neither did I observe any artillery- 
man from whom I had hoped I might be able to 
wean some of the desired information. All the 
soldiers I saw seemed to be infantrymen or 
cavalrymen. 

Thinking that the shells were possibly stored 
between the village and the river, I ventured 

[187] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

in the direction of the trenches, but I was 
stopped by an officer and made to turn back. 
On my way back to Lieutenant Gross's quarters, 
which I reached by way of a street I had not 
gone through before, I noticed a number of 
wagons and farm trucks lying on the ground. 
None of them had wheels. This fact did not 
then strike me as having any particular signifi- 
cance, but later it set me thinking. 

During the midday meal, which I shared with 
the lieutenant in his hut, and from the taste of 
which I inferred that his cook was anything but 
a willing servant, I asked him carelessly the 
meaning of so many trucks without wheels, but 
the suspicious look he gave me warned me not 
to repeat the question, which he had left un- 
answered, and I talked of something else. 

"Some of your men are wonderful specimens," 
I declared, a little later, trying a new tack. 
"When I was out walking I saw some artillery- 
men who were more than six feet tall!" 

"You didn't see any artillerymen," he an- 
swered, and then, catching himself, "that is to 
say, the men you saw were probably cavalrymen 
— we have some very big men in the cavalry." 

Then I asked him what he would like me to 
play at mess that night, and whether I would be 
paid for my services. He said I would be paid 
all my services were worth and that he would 
select the program later on, and he went out. 

[188] 



WHEELLESS WAGONS AND FIRELESS GUNS 

A little later I heard the noise of an airplane 
overhead and went out to watch it. It was a 
Russian machine and dropped two bombs, just 
outside the village. For once I was glad that 
a Russian aviator had missed his mark. The 
Germans fired at the bomber with machine-guns 
and rifles, but did not use their artillery, and 
the aviator soon got beyond their range. 

I went back and started to read a book, but 
soon fell asleep. I was awakened about four or 
five o'clock by Lieutenant Gross and ordered 
to accompany him to the "club." 

The "club" occupied a small hut which we 
reached through darkened streets, the lieuten- 
ant using a flashlight from time to time to light 
our way. Although the interior of the club was 
well lighted, drawn shades prevented any of the 
light showing through the windows. 

The dining-room was full of smoke, but when 
my eyes became used to it I observed that 
around the table there were seated about nine 
officers of various ranks. A moment later the 
colonel and his adjutant entered and every one 
stood up. 

When they were all seated again the adjutant 
ordered me to start playing. There was so 
much noise — the clattering of dishes, the shifting 
of chairs, the conversation and laughter of the 
officers — that I don't believe they heard very 
much of my playing. That didn't annoy me 
13 [ 189 ] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

nearly as much, however, as the fact that the 
noise prevented my overhearing what they were 
all talking about, which I tried very hard to do. 

The noise abated somewhat when the supper 
was over, and then among other scraps of con- 
versation I overheard was a statement by one 
of the lieutenants to another to the effect that 
he had "made" eight guns more that day "on 
Section B." 

The concert ended with the playing of the 
German anthem, which I celebrated by snap- 
ping one of my strings when I was half-way 
through. The officers completed the national 
air vocally, and I was not criticized for the 
"accident" to my violin. 

As I lay in bed that night several questions 
kept bothering me. The lieutenant had referred 
to the fact that eight guns had been "made" 
that day. How was it possible in a small vil- 
lage like Savendiki to manufacture big guns? 
Why had I seen no artillerymen? Why had the 
Russian airplane been greeted with rifle-fire 
only? What was the meaning of those wagons 
without wheels? Why had I been unable to 
discover any ammunition for the big guns? 

"There's something mighty mysterious about 
those big guns, that's sure," I concluded, "and 
to-morrow I will take a look at them, cost what 
it may!" 

Hanging on the wall of my room was a belt 
[ 190 1 



WHEELLESS WAGONS AND FIRELESS GUNS 

containing bullets. I had noticed it there during 
the afternoon. I got out of bed quietly, pulled 
out a handful of the bullets, opened them one 
by one with the aid of a kitchen knife, and 
poured the powder into one of the sounding 
openings of my violin. I had an idea that I 
might find this powder useful in connection with 
a plan that I had formulated for my return to my 
regiment when the good time came. Then I 
replaced the empty shells in the belt and crept 
quietly back to bed. 

When Lieutenant Gross appeared in the morn- 
ing and after we had had a light breakfast which 
the girl sullenly prepared for us, I told him that, 
owing to the accident to my violin the night 
before, I would have to get some new strings. 
I asked him to write me a note permitting me 
to go to the next village, where, I said, I knew I 
could procure what I wanted. This, I figured, 
would give me sufficient leeway to secure the 
information I was determined to get. 

"No, that won't be necessary, Iogolevitch," the 
officer replied; "we'll send a soldier for them." 

"Very well, Herr Lieutenant," I answered, 
agreeably, trying hard to conceal my disap- 
pointment. "That will be fine, but, really, I'm 
afraid the soldier won't be able to select just 
the kind of strings I need." 

"Well, if it is absolutely necessary for you to 
make the trip yourself, you can go, of course, 

[191] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

but I thought I would save you the trouble, 
that's all!" 

Save me the trouble! I would gladly have 
crawled there and back on my hands and knees 
if it had been necessary for me to do so in return 
for the information I was sure the trip would 
furnish me, but later, when the officer informed 
me that I could start and said I had better 
hurry if I expected to get back in time for mess 
that night, I asked him if he could furnish me 
with a horse, and I got that, too! 

I seemed to be in luck all through. Things 
were certainly breaking easy for me. The pass 
which the lieutenant gave me got me past the 
patrols, and after I had left the village of Saven- 
diki behind me I detoured and rode in the direc- 
tion of the trenches. 

Some German soldiers whom I encountered 
did not even stop me, the German cavalry 
horse, with its characteristic saddle, dispelling 
any suspicion they might have felt. Several 
hundred feet behind the trenches I rode right 
up to a huge gun, camouflaged, which was 
pointing up in the air in the direction of the 
Russian lines. 

One look was enough! The mystery was 
solved! The gun was nothing but a solid piece 
of wood shaped skilfully and mounted on wagon- 
wheels to resemble a gun-carriage and deceive 
our aviators. 

[ 192] 



WHEELLESS WAGONS AND FIRELESS GUNS 

I wheeled around quickly and made toward 
the river. My task was done and the only 
thing now was to get back to my regiment. 

It would have been suicidal to have attempted 
to cross the bridge. There were trenches all 
along the river-bank except where the forest, 
running down to the water's edge, made arti- 
ficial fortifications unnecessary. I decided that 
my best chance to get across the river would be 
by working through these trees. 

Hitching my horse to a tree, I took my violin 
and started off through the woods in the direc- 
tion of the river. I had not gone very far 
before I was stopped by patrols. My pass 
seemed to satisfy them, but they could not 
understand why I should be going in the direc- 
tion of the river, until I explained that all I 
wanted was a drink. 

"Very well, but be careful," they cautioned 
me. "Remember there are Russian troops on 
the other side, and if they see you they'll shoot." 

I climbed down to the river-bank, at which 
point I was beyond the observation of the Ger- 
man patrols, set fire to my violin, and jumped 
into the river. When I had gotten about half- 
way across, my violin exploded with a loud 
report. 

The explosion not only scared the Germans, 
who feared that a Russian grenade squad had 
succeeded in crossing the river and was climbing 

[193 ] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

the bank, throwing their grenades as they ad- 
vanced, but it attracted the attention of the 
Russian patrols to me. I figured that my com- 
rades would undoubtedly realize that I was try- 
ing to escape from the Germans or I would not 
be swimming direct for the Russian trenches in 
broad daylight. That, indeed, was the way it 
worked out. They fired volley after volley into 
the forest, but not a shot at the lone swimmer 
whose mission they could only guess. Their 
fire helped to keep the Germans under cover 
and enabled me to reach the opposite bank with- 
out mishap. As soon as I reached the side, 
however, the Huns started to fire at me and I 
had to seek the shelter of a huge rock. For 
more than an hour I remained under cover, real- 
izing that if I attempted to climb the bank I 
would make an easy target. 

When the Huns got tired of firing, concluding, 
perhaps, that I had either been accounted for or 
had made good my escape, I climbed to the top 
of the embankment, crawled across No Man's 
Land, and reached our lines in safety. 

Without waiting to get dry I asked to be con- 
ducted at once to the headquarters of my regi- 
ment, as I wanted to get my report in as long 
as possible before the Germans discovered my 
intrigue. 

At the colonel's quarters I burst right into his 
room without ceremony and reported breath- 

[ 194] 



WHEELLESS WAGONS AND FIRELESS GUNS 

lessly what I had discovered concerning the 
German big guns. 

"Great work, Iogolevitch ! " the colonel ex- 
claimed, enthusiastically. "That's splendid! 
The mystery is now solved. Nicolai " — address- 
ing his adjutant — "we are going to have a big 
night!" Then he told me to lie down on the 
sofa in his office and have a good sleep. The 
exertion of my swim and run and the excitement 
of the adventure had exhausted me, and I did 
as I was told very willingly. I was asleep as 
soon as my head touched the sofa. 

When I woke up I found myself on the same 
sofa, but the room I was in was absolutely bare! 
Where were the maps on the walls and the fur- 
niture? Where was the colonel's desk, with its 
accumulations of plans, reports, maps, and 
papers? Was the whole thing a dream? 

I sat up, rubbed my eyes, and gazed around 
the vacant room, completely flabbergasted, and 
then my eyes rested on a soldier lying asleep 
on the floor directly under me. 

He was a Russian soldier and I gave him a 
nudge to wake him up. 

"Is this headquarters?" I asked. 

"Headquarters?" he repeated. "No, head- 
quarters moved to Savendiki this morning!" 

1 ' Savendiki ! " I echoed. ' ' What are you talk- 
ing about?" 

"Yes, we took Savendiki during the night. 
[195] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

Headquarters was moved there this morning, 
but the colonel told the boys not to disturb you 
and left me here to wait until you woke up!" 

The whole situation became clear to me at 
once. Knowing that there was nothing to fear 
in the wooden guns which had looked so men- 
acing, our troops had been hurled against Sa- 
vendiki and had captured it. My information 
had borne quick fruit and I felt mighty proud 
about it, although there was a tinge of disap- 
pointment in it at that at the thought that I 
had not been given a chance to share in the 
garnering of it. Without waiting to discuss that 
phase of it with the soldier, I ran out of the hut 
and hurried down the village street — almost as 
fast as I had run a day or two before when I 
was being pursued by the Huns. 

Coming down the street was our squadron. 
They were returning from Savendiki with sev- 
eral hundred prisoners. It was mighty good to 
see them. After we had exchanged experiences 
I received so many compliments in the shape of 
slaps on the back that I decided never to tell an- 
other soul about my adventure so long as I lived. 

An hour or two later I was summoned to 
Captain Panunsev's quarters and told that I 
could have a two days' furlough. 

"You'd better go to Radziwilichiski, Iogole- 
vitch," he suggested. " That's the nearest vil- 
lage of any size. Have you got any money? " 

[196] 



WHEELLESS WAGONS AND FIRELESS GUNS 

I assured him that I had enough to answer 
all my possible needs. 

"Well, you better take this, anyway. We 
want you to have a real good time," and he 
handed me three rubles. 

As I started off for Radziwilichiski I reflected 
that it was the first holiday I had had since 
April, 1 91 5, and it was now July, 1916. I 
turned over in my mind all the things I would 
like to do in those two short days of freedom. 
One duty that was imperative was to catch up 
with my correspondence. I had not written 
home for many months — I was ashamed to 
figure how long. As soon as I reached the vil- 
lage I would sit right down and write a real 
long letter to my mother. I would push right 
along. 

Waskia must have understood my plan, for 
she lengthened her stride and clattered along 
at a great clip without any urging from me. 
Good old Waskia! What a faithful old war- 
horse she was ! 

It was evening when I reached the outskirts 
of the village and slowed up. I put Waskia up 
in a stable which was being used by the trans- 
port division of an infantry regiment and went 
to see the quartermaster, to whom I handed 
a note from Panunsev asking him to take care 
of me. 

After supper I got in with some of the sol- 
[197] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

diers and spent the evening hobnobbing with the 
people of the village. There were a number of 
pretty girls in Radziwilichiski, and they did so 
much to entertain us and make us forget, for 
the time being, the strain and worry and the 
discomforts and dangers of army life that the 
time passed very quickly. 

The next day I bought myself some new 
underwear and found a place where I could 
take a real hot bath. When I was all spruced 
up I felt better than at any time since I had 
enlisted. 

I spent the whole day amusing myself in the 
village. It was very nice to be the center of a 
group of admiring villagers and to recount my 
adventures while they stood around with open 
mouths listening to me. Enough food was of- 
fered me to have fed my whole company for a 
week! 

That night at supper I noticed some soldiers 
reading letters. Good Heavens! I had for- 
gotten all my noble resolves to write home. 
Borrowing a pencil and paper, I sat right down 
and wrote my father, mother, brother, and sister. 
I covered sheet after sheet with stirring accounts 
of the wonderful adventures I had had, not 
forgetting the rear-guard action at Savendiki 
which had earned for me the St. George Cross. 

As I wrote, memories of my family and my 
home-life crowded before my eyes and I don't 

[198] 



WHEELLESS WAGONS AND FIRELESS GUNS 

mind confessing that the tears came, too. The 
thought that my long silence must almost have 
broken my mother's heart filled me with shame. 
Instead of enjoying a furlough, I ought to be 
spending a week in the guard-house for the way 
I had acted. I decided to call my furlough a 
heat right then and there and get back to hard 
work and danger. That was what I deserved. 

With continued self-reproaches I went to 
sleep, and early next morning, still thoroughly 
ashamed of myself, I fetched Waskia and started 
back for Savendiki. The fact that I was volun- 
tarily forgoing several hours of furlough was a 
penance which comforted me considerably. 

Before I started an officer cautioned me to 
ride carefully. 

"The Huns have been pressing forward stead- 
ily for the past day or two," he warned, "and 
our forces have been compelled to give ground 
here and there. It may be that the enemy has 
reached the road to Savendiki at some points. 
Watch out for yourself!" 

I assured him that I would take no chances, 
but inwardly I felt nothing approaching alarm. 
My clean underclothing, the good food I had 
had at Radziwilichiski, not to say anything of 
three chickens which dangled at the end of my 
saddle by a piece of string tied around their 
necks, made me feel at peace with all the 
world, and I jogged along as happy as a lark. 

[ 199] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

"You wouldn't lead me into trouble, would 
you, Waskia?" I asked, leaning over the mare's 
neck and patting her affectionately. "You 
wouldn't get lost or anything — or carry me into 
the enemy's lines?" 

Waskia cantered along briskly, with never a 
snort, and I felt as secure as if I were riding 
again with Boris along the long, winding roads 
of far-off Harbin where we had spent our 
early years. 

About fifteen miles down the road I passed a 
number of our transports and troops. At this 
point there was a road leading into the woods. 
Stopping one of the soldiers, I asked him if by 
following this by-road I could make a short cut 
to Savendiki. He assured me that I could, and 
I gave my horse the spurs and galloped off. 

For seven or eight miles the road ran as 
straight as a die. Then it divided, one fork 
branching off to the right and the other to the 
left. Here was a dilemma. Perhaps some one 
would come along and direct me. I waited im- 
patiently for ten or fifteen minutes, but in vain. 

Then I decided that the road to the right must 
certainly be the one for me to follow, for the 
other would bring me out on the main road 
again. 

Again I started off and I rode for an hour with- 
out incident. Soon I would meet our outposts 
and my furlough would be over. 

[ 200 ] 




WHEN I REGAINED CONSCIOUSNESS I WAS RIDING ON A HORSE, 
STRAPPED ACROSS HIS BACK, HEAD DOWNWARD! 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

I was thinking over the happy incidents of the 
past forty-eight hours when three shots, one 
after another, brought Waskia to her knees, 
then to the ground, pulling me down with her, 
and before I had a chance to draw my revolver 
to defend myself something struck my head 
and everything swam before my eyes! 

When I regained consciousness I felt some- 
thing under me jolting. I was riding on a horse 
— across the back of a horse — strapped across his 
back, head downward! 

I opened my eyes and just as quickly shut 
them, for I had gotten a glimpse of a soldier 
riding beside me, carrying a lance at the end of 
which was a little colored flag and wearing on 
his head a German helmet! 

I was a German prisoner! 



XII 

A DISASTROUS FURLOUGH 

WHAT had happened? How had I been 
captured? Where was Stassie and the 
rest of my squadron? How badly was I 
wounded? Where was I being taken? What 
were the chances of escape? 

These and a dozen other questions came 
rapidly to my mind. It was several minutes 
before the answer came in the recollection 
of my furlough at Radziwilichiski, my ride 
through the woods, the three shots and the blow 
on the head, and then I opened my eyes again 
and took another look at my captor. 

He was a typical German cavalry patrol — 
trim, straight-backed, square-shouldered, seri- 
ous-looking. I considered for a moment 
whether there was anything to be gained by 
feigning continued unconsciousness, and, de- 
ciding that there was not, hailed the Hun in 
German. 

He looked around hastily, surprised to hear 
himself addressed in his own language by a 

[ 203 ] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

Russian prisoner, and then explained to me that 
I had been captured by his patrol and that he 
was taking me to a village near Kelniy, where 
his regiment was stationed and where I would 
be handed over to the officers. 

We overtook a man driving a truck, and the 
soldier was considerate enough to unstrap me 
from the horse and put me in the truck in- 
stead, riding right behind me and keeping his 
eye on me. 

I felt too weak even to think of escape and 
soon fell asleep. I awoke just as the wagon 
drove into the center of a crowd of German sol- 
diers, and heard one of them command in very 
poor Russian, "Get out of there, you dirty 
Russian!" 

' ' Are you addressing me? " I asked, in German. 

To conceal his surprise he grabbed me by the 
feet and jerked me out of the wagon. 

"Attention!" an officer yelled as I tumbled 
to the ground. 

I obeyed without too much alacrity and was 
ordered to move over to a table in front of a hut, 
at which sat two other officers. All sorts of 
questions were asked me, including my age, 
which I gave them correctly — going on fifteen. 

At that they looked at one another in surprise 
and then warned me not to lie. Then they 
started to cross-question me, asking how it was 
I spoke such good German. I told them that 

[204] 



A DISASTROUS FURLOUGH 

when I was a child I had spent some time at 
Dresden, which was true, and that they could 
easily confirm my statements by communicating 
with the school that I attended there. 

They said they would investigate my story. 

"In the mean time, however," the officer in 
command added, "you will be treated as a mili- 
tary prisoner, although, because of your youth, 
we are going to keep you here instead of sending 
you to a prison-camp." 

A soldier stepped up to the officers' table at a 
word of command and I was ordered to follow 
him. He led me to a hut in which I found forty 
other Russian prisoners. They told me they 
had been captured the previous night and were 
waiting to be transferred to a prison-camp. 

Most of these poor chaps were sitting on the 
floor. They looked very despondent, and from 
what we had heard of the treatment accorded 
our prisoners by the Germans they had every 
reason to be downhearted. I pitied them from 
the bottom of my heart. 

An officer whom I had not noticed before 
came swaggering toward me. 

"Tell these swine that we don't purpose to 
let them sit idly here. There are trenches to 
be dug and you are all going to get busy right 
away. There isn't going to be any loafing while 
I have anything to say!" 

"Is there going to be any lunch, lieutenant?" 
u [ 205 ] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

I asked, trying to show him that even if we were 
prisoners we still had some spirit left. 

"None of your insolence!" he yelled, getting 
red in the face with anger. Although the rest 
of the prisoners did not understand what he 
said, they knew I had "got his goat" — as your 
expression is — and they looked a bit nervous, 
especially when some of the German soldiers 
grabbed their rifles to scare me. 

"Thank you, lieutenant!" I replied, rubbing 
my ear as though it had been affected by his 
shouting, "but I did not quite get the time. 
Did you say afternoon lunch or supper? " 

To that there was no answer, the soldiers 
hustling us all out of the room and leading us to 
a bridge where trenches were to be dug. Shovels 
were given us and, stirred on by German sol- 
diers who shouted at us continually, we started 
to dig. Our job was to build a trench connect- 
ing the bridge with a trench about a quarter of a 
mile outside the village. 

For a while the work did not seem particu- 
larly hard to me. My head still ached from 
the blow I had received and I was ravenously 
hungry, but the work itself did not bother me 
particularly. 

After several hours of digging, however, my 
back and arm muscles commenced to protest 
against this unwonted labor, but there was no 
stopping. Afternoon came and the guard was 

f 206 1 



A DISASTROUS FURLOUGH 

changed, but no food was brought us nor were 
we given any breathing-spell. The perspiration 
dripped from our foreheads, our hands were 
blistered, and we were almost famished, but 
the Huns showed not the slightest interest in 
our suffering. We were prisoners — that was 
enough. 

I placed my hand in my pocket to get a piece 
of bread and a handkerchief to wipe the perspira- 
tion from my face — everything was gone! My 
money, papers, and precious crust of bread had 
been confiscated. Fortunately I had not been 
wearing my medal, or that would have been 
taken, too. 

Calling one of the sergeants who was watching 
my particular section of the work, I told him 
that I was too weak to go on. 

"You weren't too weak to fight, were you? 
Well, you're strong enough to work. You'll go 
right on the same as the others till you get 
orders to stop!" 

A moment or two later, however, he relented. 
He said I could go over to the bridge and 
straighten out some blocks of wood that were 
stored under it. This gave me a chance to 
drink some water and, incidentally, revealed tc 
me a number of good hiding-places which I 
stowed away in my memory for possible future 
use. 

It was not Until darkness came — which, for- 
[207] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

tunately, was about half past three in the after- 
noon — that we were ordered to stop work, al- 
though if we had not been relieved right then I 
think nature would have stopped some of us. 
We were lined up and marched off to a shed, 
where most of us dropped to the floor, shivering 
from cold and weak from hunger and fatigue. 

I appealed to one of the German soldiers who 
were standing guard over us to get us some- 
thing to eat. 

''We wouldn't treat a German dog this way!" 
I protested. 

"It's pretty tough, I know," he admitted 
— he was evidently a decent sort of Hun — 
"but it's not up to me. I can't help it. I've 
got some tobacco, though, if you want that. 
You can chew it. That will burn your throats 
and make you forget your hunger!" 

He handed me about half a pound of strong 
tobacco, which I divided among the men, and 
we followed his suggestion. I don't know that 
it made us forget our hunger, but it certainly 
burnt our throats — mine, at any rate. Some 
of the men went to sleep, but they were not 
allowed to rest long. A squad of soldiers entered 
the shed and ordered every one but me to leave 
the room. They were on their way to the 
prison-camp. 

Left alone, I soon fell asleep. I awoke late 
the next morning to find my throat swollen so 

[ 208 1 



A DISASTROUS FURLOUGH 

that I could hardly breathe. My head was so 
heavy that I felt dizzy when I stood on my feet. 

There was a guard sitting in the doorway, 
and, noticing that I had awakened, he told me 
that in a few minutes I would receive a meal. 

"It will be all you get for the day," he added, 
"so you better make the most of it." 

A moment or two later another soldier came 
into the room, bringing an earthenware bowl 
and a spoon, which he placed near me. The 
dish consisted of a rather thin soup in which 
a few pieces of potato were floating around. 
My attempt to swallow a spoonful proved so 
painful that, famished as I was, I thrust the 
bowl aside and lay down again. 

Later I tried to swallow some more of the soup 
and gradually, despite the pain, I managed to 
get it all down. 

For three days I was left considerably to my- 
self. As I was the only prisoner in the place, 
they did not put me to work, but I was ques- 
tioned intermittently by officers who visited the 
shed and who wanted to know everything they 
could find out about conditions in the Russian 
army. Needless to say, they didn't learn very 
much of value from me. 

Left alone, I had much to engage my thoughts. 
I was particularly thankful that the misfortune 
that had overtaken me had come after I had 

written my family instead of before. The knowl- 

[209] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

edge that I was a captive would have been a 
sad shock to my mother. As it was, the letter 
I had sent off only a few days before was full of 
cheering news, and it comforted me to know 
that, no matter what was in store for me, my 
family would be spared the pain of knowing it. 

On the fourth day of my captivity another 
party of Russian prisoners was brought in, and 
when they were put to work I was taken with 
them. Again we were assigned to the task of 
connecting the bridge with the line of trenches 
by means of a tunnel. 

For two days we continued on this job, and 
then another prisoner and I were sent to the 
trench end of the tunnel to build a wire door at 
the entrance. 

While we were putting the wires in place our 
guard went inside the tunnel. My friend seized 
a coil of this wire and quickly barred the entrance 
so that no one could emerge. He looked at me 
triumphantly. I realized at once that his plan 
was little less than madness, but I decided to 
join him. A moment later we were on our way, 
running for liberty toward the forest! 

We had not gone five hundred yards before 
we were noticed. About fifty cavalrymen set 
off in pursuit, firing at us as they gained on us. 
In five minutes it was all over and a little later 
we stood before the officers, our bodies bruised 
black and blue from the blows we had received. 

[210] 



A DISASTROUS FURLOUGH 

"Trying to escape, eh?" one of the officers 
sneered. 

I did not answer, and Vladimir, my fellow- 
prisoner, did not understand. 

"I will show you, you insolent swine!" the 
officer thundered, jumping up from his chair 
and bringing his fist down heavily on the table. 

The officer addressed me rather than Vladi- 
mir, not because I understood German, but 
because Vladimir towered above him, while I 
was small enough for him to bully. 

Little did the Hun understand the character 
of brave Vladimir. Instead of appreciat ingthe 
officer's choice of a victim, the big-hearted Rus- 
sian resented it. I saw his face turn red, but 
I was totally unprepared for what happened. 

Striding up to the officer with the manner of 
a giant reprimanding a pygmy, he pushed the 
officer's face back with the palm of his hand and 
forced him into his seat. When the officer had 
seated himself with more violence than grace 
the big fellow pointed to himself and indicated 
that he was the man to be spoken to if any 
threats were going to be made. 

The men in the room were paralyzed by the 
Russian's audacity. The officer, gaining his 
composure, leaned over to seize a revolver lying 
on the table, but Vladimir moved toward him, 
and the officer decided suddenly to let the revol- 
ver lay where it was. 

[211] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

Then another officer in the room commanded 
the soldiers to seize Vladimir. Six privates 
picked up their guns and marched toward him. 
He made it clear to them that he did not intend 
to resist, and he followed them quietly out of 
the room. 

With Vladimir out of the room, the officer 
who was the cause of all the trouble plucked up 
courage, although he was still trembling. In a 
strained, unnatural voice he shouted that we 
would both pay dearly for our conduct. 

I spent that night in a room with Vladimir. 
We were closely guarded, but we talked over 
the events of the day freely. 

"You're a brave fellow, Vladimir," I told 
him, "but it is useless for us to resist, outnum- 
bered as we are. We shall only bring greater 
suffering on our shoulders if we get ugly." 

"That is true, corporal," the big fellow as- 
sented, "but I won't let these Huns bully me or 
any other Russian without letting them know 
that no single Hun can get away with it!" 

The next morning the officer who had cross- 
examined me the day I was first brought in 
came into our room, followed by ten soldiers. 
I waited anxiously his announcement of the 
punishment that was to be imposed upon us. 

"Yesterday," he said, cuttingly, addressing 
Vladimir, "you insulted an officer of the Ger- 
man Imperial Government because you felt that 

f 212] 



A DISASTROUS FURLOUGH 

you were his superior in physical strength. You 
will be punished in such a way that your strength 
will be of no avail." 

All the horrible stories I had heard about the 
German method of treating recalcitrant prisoners 
came into my mind. 

"You may have your choice of two punish- 
ments. One is to be tied to a post and be 
thoroughly beaten. The other is to be nailed 
up in a long box for three days. If you choose 
the latter you will have just enough air to keep 
you alive, and no more. Take half an hour to 
think it over." 

I interpreted what he had said to Vladimir 
after the officer had left the room. 

"Why didn't you tell me when he was here!" 
Vladimir complained, his anger aroused at the 
officer's hideous threat. "It would have given 
these ten fingers," and he held his ten powerful 
digits up before my eyes, "peculiar satisfaction 
to have tightened themselves around that cow- 
ard's throat!" 

Then a soldier entered the room, but our 
attention was not really attracted to him until 
he attempted, from the rear, to throw a rope 
around Vladimir's shoulders. Vladimir turned 
suddenly and threw his full weight against the 
soldier and sent him crashing against the wall. 
Then came a shot. The guard in the door- 
way had fired point-blank at Vladimir and 

[ 2I 3 ] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

the big fellow's arm was hanging limp at his 
side. 

This enraged me so that I lost all sense of 
prudence. Seizing a near-by chair, I hurled it at 
the guard and knocked his rifle from his hands. 
Then more soldiers entered and we were seized 
and dragged out to the village square. 

There a group of officers were standing at an 
improvised judge's bench. The soldiers who had 
brought us over explained what had occurred, 
and the coward officer of yesterday smiled re- 
vengefully as he saw an opportunity to even 
up the score. 

"You little cur!" he shouted, venomously, 
stepping toward me and swinging a heavy blow 
at my chin. 

I drew my head back just in time to escape 
his vicious swing, and drew back my arm to 
counter, but a soldier seized my hand and pre- 
vented further complications. 

Then Vladimir was seized and dragged to a 
post, to which they proceeded to tie him for his 
beating. 

"Tell the officers that I prefer the other pun- 
ishment," he shouted to me as they led him 
off. "I don't want to see their dirty faces!" 

I didn't repeat the latter part of his message, 
not wishing to aggravate matters, but he was 
immediately taken away to suffer the form of 
punishment he had indicated, while I was 

[214] 



A DISASTROUS FURLOUGH 

dragged to the post and lashed to it in his 
place. 

There were several women in the crowd that 
had gathered around the whipping-post, and 
when they saw me tied to it by my hands and 
feet they shrieked in horror. 

From sheer nervousness I began to smile and 
then to laugh. I heard some one say, "Be 
brave to the last," and I tried to obey that in- 
junction, and my laughter became louder and 
louder, as though I were enjoying the devil's 
own jest. 

A terrible shriek from the other end of the 
square where Vladimir had been dragged caught 
my ears. It was a woman's voice, and the 
sound of hammering that immediately followed 
told me too well what was happening to poor 
Vladimir. 

Then came a torrent of blows from a whip 
which seemed to have the tongue of a thousand 
scorpions, and everything faded from before my 
eyes. 



XIII 

SOUVENIRS 

WHEN I came to my senses I was still 
lashed to the post. There was no longer 
a crowd about me. A soldier was marching up 
and down in front of me. I recognized him as 
the man who had shot Vladimir. 

As soon as he saw that I was again conscious 
he walked toward me. 

"A drink of water, please," I pleaded. 

There was a pail beside him and he stooped 
to pick it up. The water did not look very 
clean, but it would moisten my parched lips. 
The Hun moved intolerably slowly. Why 
couldn't he hurry? 

He raised the pail, and then with a wicked leer 
he turned it upside down and let the water run 
over the cobblestones! 

Weak as I was, I struggled in my bonds. If I 
could have freed myself at that moment I would 
have made that fiend pay for his cruelty if it 
cost me my life, but my struggles were futile 
and only made my smarting body pain the more. 

[216I 



SOUVENIRS 



The Hun laughed at my despair and held his 
rifle toward me. 

"This is what you threw out of my hands 
yesterday!" he said, leering at me. 

Experience had taught me that the Hun never 
wastes his breath calling 
up unpleasant recollec- 
tions unless they are to 
be used as an excuse 
for an act of cruelty to 
come. 

"I remember it," I 
said. 

"Well, now you are to 
become really acquainted 
with it!" And, gripping 
the gun tightly near the 
muzzle, he swung his 
arms back in the position 
of a man about to chop 
down a sturdy tree and 
brought the butt of his 
weapon down full force 
against my leg! 

The pain and shock of 
the blow sickened me. I 
knew that I was going to 

faint. Just before I lost consciousness, however, 
I saw the brute raise his gun again for a second 
blow. It seemed as if the butt was going to 

[217] 




WHEN I CAME TO MY SENSES I 
WAS STILL LASHED TO THE POST 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

strike me from a distance of a mile away. I 
threw my head back — 

When I awoke — I don't know how long after- 
ward — I was lying on a bed in a little hut. A 
woman sat in the corner of the room, crying. 
I felt an aching, gnawing pain in my left leg. I 
tried to move it, but I discovered that I had no 
control over it whatever. 

Then I remembered the beating I had re- 
ceived and I closed my eyes and tried to sleep in 
an effort to blot out recollection of my troubles, 
but my pain was so great that sleep would not 
come. I tried my leg again and wondered how 
badly I had been hurt. 

"Where am I?" I asked. 

"'Sh-sh — don't speak," she whispered, staring 
at me in a helpless sort of way, like a dumb, 
frightened animal. 

I shut my eyes and attempted to think clearly. 
Poor Vladimir! What had been his fate? I 
could not banish him from my thoughts. 

"Where is my friend — the other Russian pris- 
oner?" 

There was no answer. I wondered whether 
she had heard me. The position in which I lay 
made it impossible for me to look up. Just as 
I was about to repeat my question the door 
opened and a man walked in. 

At first I could not tell who he was, but later 
I s&w by his epaulets that he was a doctor ? I 
[218] 



SOUVENIRS 

shut my eyes. He felt my pulse, listened to 
my heart, and muttered something to himself, I 
could not tell what. Then he left. 

It became dark. The woman lit a lamp. It 
revealed a squalid, dirty interior. The light 
pained my eyes and, in spite of the pain the 
effort caused me, I turned over and fell asleep. 

The next morning a German soldier came to 
my bedside. Among other things he brought me 
the cheering intelligence that I was to be sent 
to Germany within a few days. The informa- 
tion was given me, I am sure, out of no kindness 
of motive — the Hun thought it would add a 
touch of bitterness to my pain. As a matter of 
fact, however, it worked just the other way. It 
gave me something to think of. Somehow I 
would have to find a way to escape, because I 
would rather have died than have been taken to 
Germany a prisoner. 

That morning I was given a real breakfast 
and it made me feel considerably better. My 
brain was quite clear and I discovered, much to 
my joy, that, while my left leg was terribly 
swollen and quite black from the knee to the 
hip, the bone was not broken. 

For five days I was allowed to remain in the 
hut in which I found myself when I came to 
after my beating. By that time I was able to 
hobble around the room a bit, though not with- 
out pain. I had just been trying how far I 

[ 219] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

could go when I observed, through the window, 
the officer who cross-examined me. He was 
approaching the hut, with three soldiers. 

I jumped quickly into bed, hoping to convey 
the impression that I was not yet strong enough 
to get up. The officer entered the room and 
warned me that the next day I was to be taken 
before the highest German officials in that sec- 
tion of the country. 

"And I warn you," he added, "that if you 
show any more of your insolence, you'll regret 
the day as long as you live!" 

I turned to the wall and began to snore. 

"You heard me!" he said, and walked out. 

Putting two and two together, I figured that 
the following day I would probably, be started 
on my way to Germany. Once I got into enemy 
territory, I concluded, it would be mighty diffi- 
cult to make a successful escape. If I was to 
make a safe get-away, my better plan would be 
to try it that night, and that was what I decided 
to do. With the kitchen knife, which I had taken 
from the woman, I was prepared to kill myself 
if the plan failed. 

As soon as it was dark I climbed out of the 
window unnoticed. Bending low, I scurried from 
corner to corner as fast as my bruised leg would 
permit, always making in the direction of the 
bridge. When I passed the first patrol on this 
side without being observed I climbed under the 

[ 220 ] 



SOUVENIRS 

bridge and hid myself between the wooden 
blocks I had noticed when working there with 
the prison squad, and I felt comparatively safe. 

A few hours later I heard excited voices and 
the tramping of hasty footsteps on the bridge. 
Some one shouted an order to guard both ends 
of the tunnel. I realized then that my escape 
had been discovered and that every effort would 
be made to recapture me. The safest thing I 
could do was to remain just where I was until 
the hue and cry had abated. They would never 
imagine that I had remained right under their 
noses, and after hours of fruitless search they 
would conclude that I had outwitted them for 
good. 

I stayed in my hiding-place under the bridge 
all night and all the next day, subsisting on the 
scanty stock of food I had stuffed into my 
pockets before I started. 

In the evening I started out. By that time, 
I figured, they must have given up all hope of 
finding me. I crept into the tunnel, holding 
my knife ready to thrust into any one who 
opposed me. 

When I reached the end of the tunnel I de- 
cided to wait there until it grew a little darker, 
as there were always one or two soldiers in the 
trench. When the sentry passed by me I could 
almost touch his shoulder from where I lay con- 
cealed in the tunnel, but, for obvious reasons, I 

15 [221] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

didn't. Instead I waited until he had passed 
by me several times, in which way I learned how 
long the intervals were between his periodic 
appearances, and then, at the opportune mo- 
ment just after he had passed me, I jumped 
into the trench and out again, a few minutes 
later, into the forest. 

All night long I advanced by hops, using my 
sound leg and saving the left one as much as 
possible. I decided to keep on as long as pos- 
sible during the night, sleeping in the daytime, 
when the danger of meeting German patrols 
would have been too great to have continued my 
journey. Behind several trees, one of them of 
gigantic size, I found a hole in the ground. It 
was partly covered with leaves and presented, 
I thought, a wonderful place to hide for the day. 
I jumped into it and covered myself as com- 
pletely as possible with the foliage. 

It was not many minutes before I was fast 
asleep and I slept heavily. When I ultimately 
awoke it was daylight. From the way I felt I 
knew that I must have slept many hours, and I 
concluded that I had slept all day and all night 
and it was now morning again. All specula- 
tions along this line were rudely jostled out of 
my mind, however, when I heard several voices 
directly above me carrying on a conversation in 
German ! 

I listened breathlessly. Was my hiding-place 

[ 222 ] 



SOUVENIRS 

known to them? Had I come to the end of my 
rope? 

"Herr Lieutenant," said one voice, "why 
don't you take a rest? I shall remain on 
guard and wake you if necessary." 

This was encouraging. Evidently I was not 
the occasion of their presence. 

I carefully brushed some of the leaves away in 
an effort to ascertain who it was who intended 
to take a rest right on top of me. All I could 
see were three saddled horses tied to a tree. 
Was it possible that these horses spoke German? 

' ' I will take of! my belt. It will be more com- 
fortable to sleep without it." The voice came 
from the other side of the tree, and I saw a hand 
place a belt on the ground right near me. In it 
was a revolver. 

Ordinarily I should have hesitated to take 
what didn't belong to me, but that revolver 
winked to me too temptingly. Raising myself 
out of the hole on my elbows, I leaned over and 
slowly and carefully removed the revolver from 
the case. 

The weapon was only just in my hands when 
the officer turned. It seemed to me that he 
planned to place his belt between the soldier and 
himself instead of where he had dropped it 
originally. In doing so, however, he suddenly 
found himself facing his own revolver. 

I had no idea of shooting him. That would 
[223] 




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SOUVENIRS 

have made a noise and perhaps brought some 
more Huns. My best plan was merely to keep 
the two Huns covered. But while my brain 
quickly came to those prudent conclusions my 
hand scoffed at such sober and sensible reflec- 
tions. One shot went into the ground and 
another traveled right past the face of a soldier 
who sat near by, gun in hand. 

He dropped his gun as a result of the shock, 
for he thought the officer had shot at him. It 
was only when he turned to look at his officer 
that he saw me. He also saw his lieutenant 
with hands upraised in token of surrender. 

The private bent to pick up his gun, but I 
warned him to raise his arms instead, which he 
did. 

I asked them where I could find the Russian 
forces. The shock of the experience must have 
bereft them of all speech, for they refused to 
tell me. Then I ordered them to march back- 
ward, faces turned toward me, in the direction 
I indicated. The soldier thereupon told me 
that there were Russian patrols in another direc- 
tion which he pointed out. Although mis- 
trusting him, I started off in the direction he 
indicated. 

We had not gone fifty yards in this direction 
when a shot from a tree burned into my leg. I 
threw myself on the ground and pulled both of 

the Huns down on top of me. Seizing the 

[225] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

officer by the shirt, I held him with my left 
hand and kept him on top of me to shield me 
from further shots from the tree. With my 
right hand, in which I held the officer's revolver, 
I shot the private through the shoulder. 

Then I shot into the air, at the same time 
ordering the men to maintain their positions, 
which covered me so that I could not be made a 
target by the man in the tree. I ordered the 
officer to direct the hidden marksman to drop 
his gun instantly. He was reluctant to do so 
until he ' noticed the muzzle of my revolver 
pointing at his stomach. Then he shouted the 
order and the gun came tumbling down from a 
tree not a hundred yards away. 

I backed up toward the gun, compelling the 
men to follow me. Reaching down, I seized the 
gun with my left hand and ordered the man in 
the tree to descend, warning him that his two 
comrades would pay with their lives if he at- 
tempted any funny business. 

When all three were on the ground, with their 
five hands up — the man I had shot could raise 
only one — I looked at my leg to see whether 
it was still there. It was so numb it might just 
as well have been missing. A huge red stain 
on my trousers demanded attention. 

I asked the lieutenant to let me have the ban- 
dage which I knew German officers invariably 
carried in their pockets. The alacrity with 

[226] 



SOUVENIRS 

which he shot his hand to his back pocket made 
me change my mind. 

"Halt!" I shouted. "Raise your hands in- 
stantly ! I '11 get the bandage myself ! ' ' 

Ordering him to advance a few steps, I made 
him turn his back to me. Then I went up to 
him and placed my hand into his back pocket. 
The "bandage" he had been reaching for was a 
little Lady Browning revolver! 

"This sort of bandage," I said, "I can use to 
better advantage on your wounded friend. Per- 
haps it will teach him in which direction the 
Russian forces are!" 

"Don't shoot!" he begged. "You'll find a 
real bandage in my right-hand pocket!" 

Hurling the gun as far from me as I could, 
having no further use for it, I searched the 
other two men and my efforts produced two 
bandages. 

Backing the men toward their three horses, I 
used their reins to advantage as a noose about 
the necks of each of them. 

Then I stepped a little to one side, took my 
boot off the wounded leg, rolled up my military 
trousers and also the sailor trousers underneath, 
and tied the bandage about the wound to stop 
the flow of blood. Then I tied up the shoulder 
of the wounded man. Apparently this little 
kindness was totally unexpected, for he mur- 
mured profuse thanks. 

[227] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

Again I inquired as to how we might reach 
the Russians. I made my position perfectly- 
clear to them. I didn't intend to take the 
chance of returning to the prison-camp from 
which I had had the good luck to escape. If I 
couldn't get back to my own lines, I certainly 
didn't intend to be recaptured alive, and if they 
had any idea of leading me into the hands of 
their comrades they were just planning their 
own deaths, for at the first sign of German sol- 
diers I would shoot the three of them in cold 
blood. 

On the other hand, I pointed out, if they 
would direct me to the Russian lines, while that 
would mean their own captivity, they could be 
sure of decent treatment as prisoners. It would 
be better for them to become prisoners than to 
die ingloriously in the woods. 

The man whose wound I had dressed seemed 
convinced by my straightforwardness. 

"I will show you the way," he said. "This 
time I won't lead you into any ambush. You 
can keep the reins around our necks until I make 
good." 

Much to my surprise, he then began to swear 
at his superior officer, claiming that as for him- 
self he would be glad to be among decent people. 
I asked him why he hadn't shown such good 
sense before. Every man in a Russian uniform, 
I assured him, would treat him kindly. 

[228 1 



SOUVENIRS 

"They told us differently — our officers!" the 
man replied, bitterly. "And we were fools 
enough to believe them." 

We traveled for an hour or two without meet- 
ing a living soul. I began to feel as if I had a 
weight of half a ton tied to my leg. I called a 
halt. My strength was slowly ebbing away. I 
felt I could go no farther, and yet any show of 
weakness on my part, I realized, might prove 
disastrous to me. 

Fortunately I had an ally in the wounded sol- 
dier. Noticing my condition, he ordered the 
other private to take me under the arm and help 
me along. We continued slowly in this way for 
another hour, when we were all startled to hear 
the trampling of horses' hoofs. It was about 
an even chance as to whether they were Germans 
or Russians. I saw a look of hope spring to 
the officer's countenance, but it was short-lived, 
for I at once ordered our party to retire into the 
woods which lined the road and to keep abso- 
lutely still until I had discerned whether the on- 
comers were friends or foes. 

"In either event, you lose!" I pointed out to 
the officer. "If they're Germans and you make 
the slightest effort to attract their attention, 
you die like dogs. If they are my friends, you 
are my prisoners! Now, then, watch your- 
selves!" 

Through the trees I now saw a party of horse- 
[229] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

men rapidly approaching. There was some- 
thing in their manner of riding that told me 
they were Cossacks, and as they came nearer I 
became quite convinced of it. 

"Who goes there?" I shouted as loud as I 
could, in Russian. 

"Our own!" came back the welcome answer, 
and a moment or two later I ran out into the 
road to greet them. I was helped on to a horse 
behind one of the Cossacks and my three pris- 
oners were similarly accommodated, after being 
properly trussed so that they could do no harm, 
and we rode rapidly back to our lines. I told 
the officers my entire story from the day I was 
captured, and requested to be sent to my regi- 
ment. 

"Better rest here to-night," the officer sug- 
gested. "We'll send you to the Third Dra- 
goons in the morning!" 

I was accommodated in one of the officers' 
huts, and for the first time in several weeks 
slept again on a decent cot among friends. 

Tired and exhausted as I was, I did not 
close my eyes that night before I had thanked 
God for the consideration He had shown me. 
I had been through dangers which seemed in- 
superable. Only by divine help could I have 
hoped to escape, and that unwavering Ally 
had brought me safely through. I was very 
much moved by these reflections, but my 

[230] 



SOUVENIRS 

prayer of gratitude comforted me and I soon 
fell asleep. 

In the morning, as I was saying farewell to 
my prisoners, the one who was wounded shook 
my hand, gave me his photograph and the ad- 
dress of his relatives in Germany, and implored 
me to write to them, which I afterward did 
through Red Cross channels. Poor fellow! Al- 
though he had tried to double-cross me in the 
first place, I bore him no ill-will for it. In his 
place I would have acted the same way. He 
atoned for it afterward by helping me along 
when my wound began to get the best of me 
and when, if he had been less considerate, his 
comrades might have disposed of me and made 
their escape. 

The photograph he gave me, and which I still 
have, was on a postal-card which he had evi- 
dently planned to send away. It gave his name 
as Gottlieb Rittweg, a volunteer in the Fifth 
Bavarian Cavalry Division, Sixth Volunteer 
Regiment, Fifth Squadron. 

Before I left, the military doctor examined my 
wound. He said that it was only a flesh wound 
and would heal rapidly if I took care of it. He 
cleaned it, put some iodine inside and around it, 
and then bandaged it, giving me a few extra 
bandages for future use. 

''In two weeks it will all be healed up," he 
promised. ' ' Good-by . Good luck ! ' ' 

[231] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

I thanked him and then, jumping on a horse 
which had been brought out for me, I rode off, 
accompanied by another soldier as guide. 

As we cantered along the road I thought over 
all the stirring adventures of the past few weeks. 
"Pretty active life for a young violinist!" I 
thought. "Life will seem pretty tame after 
what I've been through lately!" 

That, indeed, did seem like a reasonable con- 
clusion to draw, and yet within but a few days 
I was to go through an adventure which made 
all my previous experiences pale into insignifi- 
cance. 



XIV 

TWO AGAINST TWENTY 

T HAD to ride about a day and a half before I 
1 reached my regiment. I hurried to the cap- 
tain's quarters. 

"What's the matter, Iogolevitch?" he asked, 
sternly. "Your furlough expired several weeks 
ago. What's your excuse?" 

I handed him a report which had been given 
me by the officer to whom I had delivered my 
prisoners. 

"Great work, my boy!" he exclaimed, after 
he had read the report, getting up from his chair 
and kissing me on both cheeks. "This is fine. 
How badly were you injured?" 

" Not very much, captain," I answered. "The 
Huns beat me up pretty bad and then, coming 
back, I was shot in the leg, but the doctor says 
the wound will be all healed in a couple of 
weeks." 

"Well, I think you've earned a real rest. You 
can take a furlough for six weeks!" 

"I thank you, captain, but, judging from the 
[233] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

developments of my last furlough, I think I'm 
better off in active service. Anyway, captain, 
I don't really need a furlough and, if I may, I 
would rather stay with the squadron!" 

The upshot of it was that I was ordered to 
one of the huts, where I was to rest until I had 
entirely recovered from the effects of my ad- 
venture. 

Lying on the bed to which I had been assigned, 
I was thinking over all the incidents of my recent 
experience and wondering how long it would be 
before I would have a chance to tell the whole 
story to Stassie and the rest of the fellows, when 
I heard the approach of horses and I jumped to 
the door to see who was coming. 

Coming down the village street was my whole 
squadron. I stood at the door, hoping to be 
able to say a word or two to those nearest me as 
they passed by, but as they reached my hut, 
they were ordered to wheel around and form a 
semicircle around me. Then Captain Panunsev 
made a speech telling the men of my experiences 
during the past few weeks and concluding with 
the statement that I was to be presented for a 
second war-cross of St. George! 

I almost keeled over with joy at this news. 
As the captain spoke my eyes were scanning the 
faces of the men gathered around me. Finally 
they rested on Stassie. When the captain an- 
nounced that I was to receive a second war-cross 

t 2 34] 



TWO AGAINST TWENTY 

Stassie indicated by mute signs that I ought 
to ask the commander to give him one, too. 

When the speech was over the men were dis- 
missed, and I was soon in their midst going over 
the experiences of my disastrous furlough. Then 




CAPTAIN PANUNSEV MADE A SPEECH TELLING THE MEN OF MY EX- 
PERIENCES AND ANNOUNCED THAT I WAS TO BE PRESENTED FOR A 
SECOND WAR-CROSS OF ST. GEORGE 

Captain Panunsev and Podporutchik Lavronsev 
came into my hut and made me take off my 
bandages, that they might inspect my wound. 

[235] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

"Well, Iogolevitch," Panunsev commented as 
he helped me rebind the leg, "you are a pretty- 
lucky boy. You will stay on the sick-list until 
this wound is entirely healed. If you like, Stan- 
islav can bunk here with you." 

That suited me admirably and Stassie brought 
around some of his belongings and arranged to 
occupy the hut with me. 

"If I had known those boots I made you take 
were going to bring you all this luck," Stassie 
repined, referring to the war-crosses that were 
coming to me, "I would never have let you even 
see them! You could have gone barefooted for 
the rest of your life before I would have offered 
them to you. And to think of it — you were 
going to throw them out!" 

Then he broke out to the following effect : 

"There are those who will claim 
That honor and fame 

Of merit and pluck are the fruits, 
But from all I can see 
It is quite clear to me 

There's more in a dead man's boots!" 

Stassie spent several days with me. Then he 
told me that I would have to get another room- 
mate, because he had been ordered to another 
village nearer the German lines for patrol work. 
That didn't suit me at all. I felt strong enough 
to be taken off the sick-list, anyway, and so I 

[236] 



TWO AGAINST TWENTY 

went to Captain Panunsev and asked to be put 
on active work. 

At first he demurred, but after the doctor had 
looked me over it was decided that I might get 
back to work. A new horse was given me, and 
late that afternoon Stassie and I, with about 
twenty other men from our squadron, started 
off for the village in question. 

Arriving there at night, we took possession 
of the few huts that remained, and half of us 
were assigned to patrol work. Stassie and I 
didn't go out until midnight, when we had to 
relieve the fellows who went out first. In our 
patrol there were five other fellows besides 
ourselves. Our object was to ascertain the 
whereabouts of the German patrol, who we 
knew must be in the vicinity, and test their 
strength. 

There was little to be accomplished at night, 
but we covered a lot of ground just the same. 
About daybreak we came to a clearing in the 
woods and about a quarter of a mile away we 
could see a hut, with a shed adjoining, the whole 
surrounded by a barbed -wire fence. 

"This looks interesting!" exclaimed Stassie. 
"Something tells me that place is occupied." 

To approach the hut across the clearing would 
have been too risky. We accordingly made a 
wide detour through the forest and came out at 
a point which was much nearer our objective. 

16 [ 2 37 ] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

Leaving the five other men to cover us from the 
shelter of the woods, Stassie and I dismounted 
and went forward cautiously to inspect the 
hut, approaching it from a side which had no 
windows. 

When we reached the blind wall we separated, 
Stassie going around one way and I the other. 
Stassie had his rifle and I had my own pistol in 
one hand and Stassie's Smith & Wesson in the 
other. 

Everything was so quiet that we fully expected 
to find that all our precautions had been for 
nothing. We would enter the hut and find it 
in the usual disordered state which was com- 
mon wherever the Germans had penetrated. 

In this frame of mind I turned the corner of 
the building rather briskly and, wow ! — my head 
struck the head of another man violently. I 
saw a million stars and a — German uniform ! I 
fired. The Hun fired back, then turned and 
fled. Even at that short distance neither of 
our shots had taken effect — we had both fired 
too hastily. 

I jumped into the hut. My first glimpse con- 
vinced me that I had acted rashly. In the dim 
light shed by a lamp in the center of the room I 
discerned the forms of no less than twenty Ger- 
man soldiers ! Some were asleep on the ground, 
others were sitting up and rubbing their eyes 
lazily, wondering, no doubt, whether they had 

[238] 



TWO AGAINST TWENTY 

actually heard firing or had just dreamed of 
shots, while one or two were hastening toward 
the door to investigate. In one corner of the 
room the men's rifles were stacked. 




I LEAPED IN FRONT OF THE RIFLES AND ORDERED THE MEN WHO 

WERE ADVANCING TOWARD THE DOOR TO STOP AND THROW UP 

THEIR HANDS 

My first impulse was to back out, but the 
door closed behind me and made retreat im- 
possible. I leaped in front of the rifles and 
ordered the men who were advancing toward 
the door to stop and throw up their hands. 
They obeyed instantly, but another man, seeing 

[239] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

that I had all I could do to keep them covered, 
made for the window and started to climb 
through. He came crashing back into the room, 
struck on the head by the butt of Stassie's rifle. 

A moment later the door opened and Stassie 
entered. The incident diverted my attention 
just long enough to give some one a chance to 
hurl a chair at my head. I threw up my arm 
and warded off the blow, but the impact threw 
me backward into the stack of rifles, and in the 
confusion the men started toward me. 

I saw Stassie forcing his way through them. 
The room was too small and too crowded for 
him to use his rifle, but he was able to swing his 
powerful arms to good effect. Smashing and 
tripping, shoving and trampling, the big fellow 
swept through that crowd of sleepy Huns like 
a bull in a wheat-field, and in a moment he was 
at my side and had grabbed one of my pistols 
and pulled me to my feet. 

Half a dozen of the Huns had taken advan- 
tage of the melee to make their escape, grabbing 
rifles as they went, and now a volley of shots 
came from them directed at the house, evidently 
intended to scare us. 

"The place is surrounded!" I shouted in Ger- 
man, sensing what had happened and deciding 
to make capital out of it. "It is useless for 
you to try to escape. Your men who just left 
have been caught by the fire from our men in 

[240] 



TWO AGAINST TWENTY 

the forest. Sure death awaits the man who 
leaves this hut!" 

A heavy-set German officer rushed at Stassie. 
Stassie used his feet skilfully and the Hun went 
sprawling. At the same time we both let fire 
to show them that we meant business. Several 
of the men fell, and that brought the rest of 
them to their senses. 

"Back up against the wall, every single one 
of you," I yelled, "or we'll shoot you full of 
holes!" They obeyed sullenly, casting longing 
eyes at their rifles, which they had been unable 
to reach. 

A moment later the men we had left in the 
woods, who had heard the firing, came bursting 
into the room. With their help it was a simple 
matter to round up our prisoners and start with 
them back to the village. There were nine 
privates, three of them wounded, and two of- 
ficers, one wounded. Four men and one officer 
we left dead in the hut. Several others had 
made good their escape. 

Some time after, when I went to America and 
took part in the "speed-up" campaign in the 
shipyards and munition-factories, I had occasion 
to address the men employed in the Smith & 
Wesson factory, and when I told them how 
Stassie 's revolver had helped us round up no 
less than eleven Huns and account for five 
others they went wild with enthusiasm. It gave 

[241 ] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

them a concrete example of the importance of 
hurrying arms and munitions to the men "over 
there," and perhaps it inspired them to greater 
efforts. 

Shortly after our prisoners were turned over 
to our officers Stassie received word that he was 
to be recommended for a medal for bravery for 
his services in bringing back the three prisoners 
some weeks before and for the part he played 
in our last joint adventure, and the brave fellow 
could hardly hold himself for joy. 

When, a day or two later, our squadron re- 
joined the regiment we learned that with two 
other regiments we were to take part in a big 
drive against the Germans. 

The Huns were in possession of a forest which 
it was our task to capture. Under the protec- 
tion of our light artillery, we advanced, on foot, 
on our objective, but we encountered a very 
stiff resistance. The German artillery seemed 
to have perfect range and a storm of shells 
worked havoc in our ranks. I feared that we 
were again to suffer through some treachery in 
our High Command. 

I was stationed behind a hastily constructed 
barricade with a number of other men from our 
regiment. Although I was so busy loading and 
firing my rifle that I did not have much time for 
reflection, it occurred to me that our barricade 
offered us very little protection. The first well- 

[242] 



TWO AGAINST TWENTY 

directed shell would blow us to bits, and shells 
were bursting all around us. The noise was 
terrific. It seemed to me that the climax of 
my adventures was about to break. I had a 
feeling that I would never emerge from this 
fight alive. 

In the midst of the din I felt a tug at my 
sleeve. "You are wanted at headquarters at 
once!" the colonel's orderly shouted in my 
ear. 

Notifying Sergeant Pirov, I left the line and 
made my way to the spot where our horses were 
stalled, well behind the lines. 

"What's the idea?" I asked the orderly, as 
we mounted and started back. 

"I don't know. Some one at headquarters 
wants to see you. Think it's your father!" 

"My father!" I repeated, pulling so hard on 
my horse's bridle that the animal reared on his 
hind legs. Instantly the thought ran through 
my head that my military career was over — my 
father had come to take me back to civil life. 
Perhaps I would be ordered home without even 
a chance to say good-by to my comrades. 

At the thought of my comrades, engaged in 
one of the most desperate battles we had so far 
encountered, I wheeled around and started back 
for our lines. 

I had proceeded only a few yards when I 
heard a voice yell, "Back — for your life ! " Pay- 

[243] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

ing no attention to the warning, I continued on 
my way. 

The next moment a huge shell swept past my 
head and everything went red before my eyes. 
I felt a choking sensation in my throat and nose. 
My horse fell from underneath me, and then I 
knew no more. 



XV 

I MEET THE CZAR 

WHEN I regained consciousness I found 
myself lying on six chairs arranged as a 
couch. Some one was washing my face with 
a wet towel, some one else was making me in- 
hale some kind of gas, and my arms were being 
worked up and down like pump-handles. It 
was my father and two sanitars. I opened 
my mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't 
come. 

My throat was paralyzed! 

"Don't be scared, Pavlik!" my father coun- 
seled. "It will be several days before you will 
be able even to whisper — but your voice will 
come back all right. In the mean while you'll 
have to use pencil and paper." 

In that way, in due course, I had to ask and 
answer all the numerous questions that we had 
to exchange. In that way I learned that I was 
suffering from shell-shock caused by the shell 
which had passed so close to me and had thrown 
me from my horse. I was not otherwise injured, 

l 2 45) 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

I was lying in the dining-room of the Radziwili- 
chiski Station. 

Of my trip from the front to Petrograd, where 
I next found myself, I have but a very hazy and 
probably inaccurate recollection. My memory 
was sadly shaken by the shock I had sustained. 
As I recall it, I traveled all the way in the coal- 
bin of a locomotive, which I shared with about 
fifty other wounded soldiers, forty-nine of whom 
were piled right on top of me! There was an 
incessant chorus of groans and curses, to both of 
which I contributed generously. I know it is 
quite out of the question, but the way I recall 
that journey it seems that it took about seven 
months and that none of us had a thing to eat or 
drink all that time, nor could any of us move 
from the positions in which we were originally 
dumped. That is the best I can say for that 
homeward trip, but my impression, as I have 
said, was probably colored by a fevered imagi- 
nation. 

I awoke in a hospital ward, in a bed which my 
father had donated to the 247th City Lazaret 
[Hospital] in Petrograd. My father and mother 
and Boris and Raymonde, my sister, were all 
around me, but I was still unable to talk. My 
power of speech came back very gradually. 

It was two months before I was able to speak 
normally. During that period I traveled from 
one resort to another. When my power of 

[246] 



I MEET THE CZAR 

speech returned I visited my father, who was 
now stationed at the front in the city of Dvinsk. 

While at Dvinsk I formed a friendship with 
an aviator named Strebnitzsky, and it was not 
long before I had induced him to take me up on 
a flying trip. . I had never been up before, and 
ten minutes after we left the earth I was quite 
decided that I never wanted to go up again ! 

Strebnitzsky wanted to show me what an 
accomplished aviator he was, and he started to 
do all sorts of tricks. I grabbed my seat for 
dear life. My heart was in my mouth and so 
were my knees most of the time. The noise 
of the engine was so great that he didn't hear 
me yell to him that I had had enough- — or if he 
did he didn't seem to agree with me. It was 
not until he started to volplane to earth and shut 
off his engine that I was able to make myself 
heard. 

"I want to get back, Strebnitzsky, just as 
quickly as you can make it!" I declared, as 
firmly as my shaking voice would permit. 

"Well, we're going one hundred miles an hour 
now, but, of course, if you're in a hurry, why — " 

I couldn't stop him. He started his engine 
and turned the nose of the 'plane almost perpen- 
dicularly down, the earth flew up to meet us, 
and then there was a tremendous crash! No, 
we had not hit the earth full force. If we had 
I w6uldn't be here to-day. As a matter of fact, 

[247] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

Strebnitzsky had made a perfect landing, but 
in skimming along the surface one of our wings 
had struck a rising in the ground, and we had 
been brought to a stop abruptly as the wing 
collapsed. 

A crowd gathered around us and pulled us out. 
I felt an unnatural beard on my chin and, putting 
my hand to it, pulled out a sharp sliver of wood 
that had penetrated the flesh to the mouth ! As 
I pulled it out the blood flowed freely. I ran 
as fast as my legs would carry me to my father's 
quarters, stitches were taken in my chin, and I 
was bandaged up so that only my eyes could be 
seen, and in that condition I returned once again 
to Petrograd, firmly convinced that the earth 
furnished all the excitement I should ever want 
without venturing into the air. 

During the months that followed I resumed 
my violin and general studies and spent a lot of 
time playing for various war charities. If I 
couldn't fight, I could at least help to provide the 
sinews of war. In due course my two war- 
crosses and my decoration came from the War 
Department and I received an honorable dis- 
charge from my regiment. 

Then I received word from the Imperial Pal- 
ace that I was to play before some wounded 
noblemen who were being cared for at the palace 
of the Czar! The Czar! That was something 
that I had long dreamed about, but, although I 

[248] 



I MEET THE CZAR 

had frequently played before nobility, I had 
never received such an honor. 

In the days that intervened before the great 
hour arrived I conjured up all sorts of pictures 
of the scene in which I was to play the star r61e. 
I had a vision of the Czar falling to his knees 
under the spell of my magic bow and begging 
my forgiveness for the way he had treated the 
Jewish people, and then, in a less optimistic 
frame of mind, I had seen myself making a 
terrible exhibition and causing the Czar so 
much distress that I was consigned to Siberia 
for life! 

At length the day arrived. When I reached 
the palace I was passed on from one secre- 
tary to another and conducted from one room 
to another until I was completely bewildered. 
Finally I came to the room where the concert 
was to be held. A general came to me and ex- 
plained exactly how I was to conduct myself in 
the presence of the Czar. 

''You will just answer the questions that are 
asked you, Iogolevitch. You will volunteer 
nothing!" he directed. 

The seats were occupied for the most part by 
wounded officers of noble families. When Prin- 
cess Olga, the eldest daughter of the Czar, en- 
tered, I was presented to her. I bowed as low as 
I could, as I had seen the others do, and then 
the Princess asked me what I was going to play, 

[ 249 1 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

and I gave her the names of a few numbers, one 
of them, I remember, being Sarasate's Gipsy 
Airs, Op. 20. 

Then the Czar entered the room and every- 
body stood up. His Majesty made a few re- 
marks and then the general beckoned for me to 
come down from the platform and approach the 
Czar. I did not know what to do with my vio- 
lin, as the piano was in the other corner, so I de- 
posited it on the platform and descended to the 
floor. 

When I was presented to the Czar that mon- 
arch held out his hand in a most unexpected 
democratic fashion. That was something I had 
not expected. I didn't know whether to grasp 
it or not, but as there seemed to be nothing else 
to do, I seized it and shook it gingerly. 

"We are proud to have a son like you, young 
man," the Czar declared, "and we thank you 
for coming to play for our wounded heroes." 

Then, at a sign from the general, I went 
back to the platform, feeling a little more at 
ease, and went through with the concert. As 
I played I thought once or twice of my experi- 
ence at the bridge at Savendiki, with Hun bayo- 
nets pressed against my sides as I performed on 
the instrument with two strings! 

When it was all over I was called again to the 
Czar and invited to tell of my war experiences. 

I went through some of the more interesting 
[250] 



I MEET THE CZAR 

incidents briefly, and then, realizing my oppor- 
tunity and having gained courage as I pro- 
ceeded, I added that I was not the only Jew who 
was fighting for Russia. 

"There are thousands of others, your Majesty, 
who volunteered and who are willingly sacrifi- 
cing their lives for Russia, and — " 

The general coughed and indicated by a frown 
and a nod of his head that I had said just 
about enough. I stopped abruptly, and then 
I was led into an adjoining room where tea was 
being served. 

Every time I put my cup to my lips it seemed 
some new member of the royal family entered 
the room and I had to put it down again and rise 
to my feet. This happened so many* times that 
I finally decided to wait for my afternoon tea 
until I got home, and then the door opened again 
and the Czarina entered. I was led over to her 
and presented by the general. 

The Czarina gave me her hand, which I kissed. 
Then she asked me something, but before I 
could find the words to answer her she turned 
her back on me. I looked at the general, won- 
dering what was the proper course in such a 
case, but I got no help from him, and so I 
answered the question just the same as if my 
royal questioner had been polite enough to 
await my reply. Then the Czarina said a few 
words to the assembled throng and left. 

[251] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

Just as the time came for me to go Princess 
Olga came to me and thanked me for my playing. 

Two weeks later I received a letter from her in 
which she asked me to come to the Winter Pal- 
ace at Petrograd, and when I arrived there, ac- 
cordingly, I was presented with a diamond star, 
which, she said, was a gift from the Czar. 



XVI 

REVOLUTION ! 

T HAD about decided that my military career 
* was over when, on March n, 191 7, I looked 
through the windows of our house and saw evi- 
dences of great excitement. Workmen were 
running through the streets carrying huge signs 
bearing such inscriptions as: 

"We want bread!" 

"Down with the lines!" 

The latter demand referred to the annoyance 
and suffering caused by the food and clothing 
rationing system. Ever since the early days 
of the war practically all commodities had been 
distributed by the card system. We had to 
have cards for everything — bread, meat, butter, 
sugar, clothes, coal, in fact, all the necessities 
of life. Luxuries were almost entirely barred. 

These restrictions, while necessary, bore par- 
ticularly hard on the poor. The rich found 
ways of evading them. Through various chan- 
nels they succeeded in getting more and better 
things than they were entitled to, and even 
17 [ 253 1 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

when they took their place in line it was their 
servants and not themselves who had to endure 
the personal discomfort of the long, weary wait. 
For the poor, however, it was a case of wait in 
line or go without. 

In those days, coming home late at night, I 
had sometimes seen the bread-line forming for 
the following morning's allotment. The poor 
devils were preparing to stand in line all through 
the night so as to be served as quickly as pos- 
sible in the morning when the distribution be- 
gan. If this had happened only occasionally, 
it would perhaps have made little impression, 
but it had been going on for months now and 
began to look like a permanent institution. 

The demand "down with the lines" meant 
far more than it signified on its face. It was a 
demand for equality and freedom, a protest 
against privilege, an appeal for the leveling of 
classes. 

When I saw what was going on in the streets 
I knew that trouble was ahead. The very fact 
that the populace dared to gather in the streets, 
which was strictly against the law told me that 
a crisis had arrived. 

A moment later I noticed the police arrive 
on the scene. They were mounted, and dashed 
right into the crowds in an effort to disperse them. 
A crowd is always powerless against horses, and 
this one fled before the advancing officers. 

[254] 



REVOLUTION! 

I ran into the street to find out what it was all 
about. 

"Better get back into the house, Mr. Paul!" 
our porter warned. "There will be shooting in 
a minute. These people demand bread and the 
government offers them bullets and jail if they 
don't get back to work!" 

Running back into the house, I talked the 
situation over with Boris. He was the only 
member of my family in town. The others 
were in Finland. After we had had lunch we 
decided to call up some of our friends and all 
go out together to watch developments. 

One of my chums, a boy named Vassia, said 
he would meet us, and out we went to join him. 

In the streets we saw government notices 
posted up on the walls, signed by the military 
governor of the state, demanding perfect order 
in the streets, forbidding gatherings, and warn- 
ing the workmen to stick to their jobs in the 
government ammunition-factories under penalty 
of being sent forthwith to the front-line trenches. 

Apparently these notices were not taken very 
seriously. Everywhere we went crowds were 
assembled. There didn't seem to be any par- 
ticular program. The men and women gathered, 
it seemed, merely to show their defiance. 

"It looks as if the government was afraid to 
carry its threats into effect," I was saying to 
Boris and Vassia, who had joined us, when a 

l 2 55l • 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

patrol of mounted police came galloping down 
the street and fired a volley of shots point-blank 
into a crowd on the corner. 

There was a wild scramble to get out of range, 
but a dozen or more had fallen to the ground 
and were writhing in agony. There were cries 
of pain, alarm, and defiance. We hurried out 
of the way, but wherever we went similar scenes 
were enacted. Everywhere was evident a spirit 
of resistance and open defiance to the police 
which was entirely new to Russia. 

"What does it all mean?" I asked Boris. 

"Revolution! The day has come!" he re- 
plied. 

Although I and the rest of my family had al- 
ways been loyal subjects of the Czar, we were 
not unmindful of the wide-spread and deeply 
rooted grievances which the Russian people 
nursed against the monarchy. Every Russian 
felt that some day there would be an end to 
Czarism, with all its abuses and outrages. When 
the war broke out, of course, national questions 
were subordinated to the one pressing problem 
of defeating the enemy Hun, but no one imag- 
ined that the Czar's position would be any 
stronger after the war than before. 

For the past two months outspoken charges 
had been made in the Duma against the govern- 
ment. The representatives of the people de- 
manded a Cabinet that was responsible to them. 

[256] 



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THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

That some of the men in high office were working 
hand in hand with the enemy was freely charged. 
These speeches had struck a most responsive 
chord in my breast, for I had seen Russians led 
to the slaughter through the treachery of our 
High Command. 

If, then, this was the beginning of a real revo- 
lution — the revolution that we had all thought 
would be postponed until after the war — I was 
not at all sure that I would not throw my lot in 
with the revolutionists, but I said nothing at 
the time to Boris. 

Late that afternoon, when Boris and I were 
returning home all alone, disorder and confu- 
sion reigned everywhere. The streets were 
jammed with soldiers and policemen. Street- 
cars were lying on their sides. Shop windows 
were smashed. Red Cross wagons and hospital 
ambulances were in evidence everywhere. Here 
and there fire-engines were putting out minor 
fires. Rifle- and pistol-shots were constantly 
heard. The police stations had been attacked 
and burned. Their records were strewn about 
in the streets. 

These scenes were repeated the following day. 
We were not quite sure just what it all signified. 
Was it just a severe riot that would be squelched 
at the cost of a few lives or was it something of 
a more vital character? 

The newspapers were very guarded in their 
[258] 



REVOLUTION! 

accounts of the trouble. Reading between the 
lines, one might gather that the rioting was the 
beginning of the end, but it was not stated in so 
many words. 

The following day, however, all doubt was 
dissipated. It was indeed the revolution! 
Boris and I talked it all over in the security 
of our home, and the conclusion we came to 
was that if the majority had decided to over- 
throw the Czar, we would become revolu- 
tionists without any question. 

That day we received a telegram from our 
father, who was in command of a medical divi- 
sion in Helsingfors, Finland. He told us to 
join him there at once. My mother and sister 
were already with him, and he said he didn't 
want us to take part in the fighting in Petrograd. 

Leaving instructions with the servants to take 
care of the house, we each took a revolver and 
made our way to the railway station. 

It was pretty hard sledding. The police, who 
had been supplied by the government with all 
the machine-guns they needed, had planted them 
at the head of most of the streets and were using 
them freely to kill and terrorize the population. 
At the front, where our soldiers were lined up 
against the common enemy, disaster had fre- 
quently overtaken them because of the failure 
of the government to supply them with needed 
ammunition, but here, when it was a question 

[259] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

of killing our own people, the government 
seemed to be amply supplied. This thought 
came to me as we progressed from house to 
house, choosing the byways and side-streets in 
an effort to escape the attention of the police, 
who would not hesitate to fire even at a child 
who happened to wander into the danger zone! 

To get to the "Finliandsky Wokzal," the rail- 
way station for Finland, it was necessary to 
make wide detours, because many of the bridges 
over the Neva River had been closed to traffic 
by the police in their efforts to control the 
crowds. 

When we finally arrived at the station we 
found ourselves face to face with a row of ma- 
chine-guns which, the day before, we learned, 
had spread a stream of fire across the square 
which fronted it, and which looked ready to 
open up again upon any who dared to venture 
toward them. Rather than take a chance of 
being made a target, we went through an ad- 
joining house and in that way got to the railway 
tracks, which we found to be in possession of 
revolutionary forces. 

Approaching one of the leaders, who was 
wearing a captain's uniform, Boris explained 
that we were anxious to get to Helsingfors to 
spread the news of the happenings in Petrograd. 

The college student's uniform which Boris 
wore was sufficient credentials to satisfy the 

[260] 



REVOLUTION! 

most rabid radical, and the captain listened to 
us patiently. 

"I would certainly like to help you, tovareszch 
[comrade]," he replied, "but there are no trains 
running to the Finland boundary-line just now. 
If you want to walk the twenty-five miles it will 
be easy to get a train from that point. But, let 
me see, how would a hand-car do?" 

That, we said, would suit us very well, and 
it was accordingly arranged. Three soldiers 
accompanied us and took it in turns to work 
the car. The journey took us two hours and at 
several points we were fired on by government 
soldiers. 

At Bieloostrof, the border city, we got a train 
to Helsingfors. Everything was quiet in the 
Finnish city. There was no sign of a revolu- 
tion. Without any trouble we got to the ar- 
mory where father was stationed. The armory, 
a tremendous old building, was situated near the 
harbor. There were large courts inside and sol- 
diers were drilling. Mother and Raymonde 
were staying at a resort near by, and father sug- 
gested that the following day we should pay a 
visit to them to set their minds at rest. 

Father's fellow-officers were very much in- 
terested in our account of the revolution at 
Petrograd. 

"Nothing will come of it, however!" said one 

captain. "In a few days it will all blow over, 

[261] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

the ringleaders will be executed, and the rank 
and file will go back to their jobs and try to 
escape punishment for their participation in the 
affair." 

The others seemed to agree with him, but 
Boris and I, who had observed the temper of the 
people, did not share their opinion. 

That night I went to a play. Just as the 
climax was being enacted there came the sound 
of shots in the street. The audience rose and 
made for the doors, as though the theater had 
been on fire. There was a wild panic. The 
weak were thrown to the floor and women 
became hysterical. I was not in uniform, 
and, although I shouted for the people to be 
calm, my voice was drowned in the general 
hubbub. 

"You are perfectly safe in here!" I shouted. 
"You may be shot if you go outside! " 

My warning did no good. The people just 
jammed their way through the doors and I was 
swept along with them. Out in the street I 
drew my revolver, but I saw no occasion to use 
it. In the glare of the electric lights fromillu- 
minated signs I saw thousands of people running 
frantically up and down with apparently no 
set purpose. Soldiers mingled with the crowd, 
but whether they were with the crowd or against 
it, it was impossible for me to discern. 

I hurried to the armory. Outside was an 
[262] 



REVOLUTION! 

officer and about thirty soldiers. They refused 
to let me in. 

"My father is inside," I explained to the 
officer. 

"That makes no difference. My orders are 
to allow no one to enter without a special pass." 

I walked nervously around the armory. 
Crowds of people were gathered on the corner. 
Among them I heard the rumor that the sailors 
on the ships which were stationed in the harbor 
were about to bombard the armory if the in- 
fantry stationed in the building did not immedi- 
ately join them in the revolt. 

Hurrying back to the gate to notify the officer 
of what I had heard, I found my father arguing 
with him. After some further parley I was 
allowed to enter. 

The officers inside were gathered in my father's 
bedroom, eagerly discussing the situation, and 
through the window which overlooked the court 
we could see the soldiers similarly engaged. 

The soldiers had heard, it seemed, that the 
Czar had abdicated and they were angry be- 
cause the announcement had not come to them 
officially. Voices became louder and louder. 

Suddenly one of the men burst into our room 
to report that the mob, led by some sailors, were 
at the gate and were preparing to rush the 
armory. 

"Seize the officers! Lynch them! They are 
1 263] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

the cause of our suffering! We want no more 
officers!" 

These cries could now be distinguished and 
confirmed the soldier's report. Some of the 
officers in the room turned white. No doubt 
many of them deserved the punishment that 
now threatened and they figured that their end 
had come. 

They all looked to father for advice. He was 
not only the oldest and most experienced among 
them, but he was perfectly calm. 

" Let us go out and mingle with the men," he 
counseled. "If we stay here, they will natu- 
rally think we are opposed to them!" 

Another soldier made his way into our room. 

"Captain Borovsky has been seized and 
lynched!" he shouted. 

The information added to the nervousness 
among us. Then word came through officially 
that the Czar had indeed abdicated. The news 
had been held back for twenty-four hours be- 
cause the government realized that as soon as it 
became known many of the officers, no longer 
bound to the monarch they had sworn to serve, 
would join the revolutionists. 

When the soldiers were informed that the Czar 
had abdicated they quieted down somewhat, 
but they still insisted that certain of the officers 
should be arrested and held for trial. Some of 
the officers who had incurred the men's dis- 

[264] 



REVOLUTION! 

pleasure yielded at once and were carried away; 
others, who held back, were seized and dealt 
with summarily. 

The next morning we heard rumors of the 
penalties that had been meted out to the capt- 
ured officers. The commander of the navy, it 
was said, had been thrust under the ice and 
drowned. Other officers were disposed of in 
the manner which seemed most appropriate to 
their self-appointed judges, the men who had 
suffered most at their hands. 

Boris and I decided to return to Petrograd 
and ally ourselves with the revolutionists, and 
with our father's permission we left the armory, 
promising to stop off to see mother. 

Walking through the streets of Helsingfors 
we noticed many agitators in civilian clothes 
and in uniform giving money to the soldiers and 
supplying them with liquor. Every effort was 
being made, apparently, to urge the men on to 
greater excesses and give the uprising the ap- 
pearance of anarchy. From the accent of these 
agitators there was no mistaking their German 
affiliations. As the Finnish borders were then 
unguarded, it was easy enough for German 
agents to get into that country and foment the 
rebellion against the government. 

We spent but a few hours with our mother 
and sister and then started back to Petrograd 

in much the same way as we had come. 

[265] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

In the Russian capital we found the revolu- 
tion had made great headway. A new form of 
government had been established by the Con- 
stitutional Democrats. Every one was talking 
about Kerensky, who had assumed an important 
place in the new government. 

Scenes of violence were frequent, only now it 
was the police who were the victims, not the 
populace. They had not hesitated to shoot 
down men, women, and children who demanded 
bread, and now that the people were in power 
they were made to pay the penalty for their 
crimes. It was generally believed that supplies 
had been freely given to the enemy by traitors 
high up in the Russian councils, while the Rus- 
sian people were allowed to starve, and when 
they protested they were shot down by the 
police. Incidentally it was discovered that the 
police were drawing salaries out of all proportion 
to their normal wages. 

We found that the city was without any real 
protection and private property was at the 
mercy of the lawless. Boris and I and a number 
of our friends decided that we could be most 
useful by acting as a sort of home-guard, and we 
laid our plans accordingly, dividing our district 
up into separate watches. Without ammuni- 
tion, however, we were not strong enough to 
cope with the rowdyism that was getting worse 
every day. 

J266J 



REVOLUTION! 

Kerensky was a friend of my father's and I 
went to him and explained what the boys of my 
district wanted to do. 

"I am glad that you boys are so willing to 
help maintain order," he said, "but I have al- 
ready arranged to form a regular militia to take 
the place of the old police, and perhaps you and 
your friends will be able to join that." 

When I got back home I called a meeting of 
the people of our neighborhood and pointed out 
to them how necessary it was for us to protect 
our homes. There were a number of young 
fellows in Petrograd who, because of the govern- 
ment positions they occupied, had never gone 
to the front, although they were able-bodied 
and would have made good soldiers. 

"Protecting our own homes is the first duty 
of each of us," I pointed out. "It may not be 
a particularly pleasant job to stand on guard 
through the night, but at the present time the 
city is entirely without protection and thugs 
and rowdies are taking advantage of the situ- 
ation. If we want to safeguard our property 
and our lives, it is up to us to protect our- 
selves!" 

The little speech I made aroused some enthu- 
siasm and it was arranged that every able-bodied 
man should take his turn at police work. 

A couple of days later the militia which 
Kerensky had spoken of was formed and I was 

[267] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

put in charge of the local headquarters of our 
district. Three prominent lawyers who lived 
in our neighborhood were appointed as judges 
and one of the private houses was converted 
into headquarters. Service in the militia was 
voluntary, but at the first call I received a large 
number of enlistments, mostly college boys, high- 
school students, and ex-soldiers. 

We received arms and ammunition from the 
city armory and jumped into the work with a 
good deal of enthusiasm. Some of the younger 
boys, however, did not take the work very 
seriously. They liked to carry rifles and ride 
the horses which I had procured for many of 
them, but we found that they sometimes 
neglected their duty. 

My experience in the army had taught me 
that discipline and strict attention to duty are 
essential in all military organizations, and the 
failings of some of my boys worried me not a 
little. 

Then some one suggested to me that I press 
the Boy Scouts into service. 

"In our district," he said, "the Boy Scouts 
have been doing some wonderful work, and I 
don't know why you couldn't use them with 
the same result." 

I knew, of course, that while these boys aver- 
aged not more than sixteen years of age, they 
would command the respect of the populace 

f 268 1 



REVOLUTION! 

because of their education. Most of them were 
gymnasium students. In Russia, where educa- 
tion is enjoyed only by the few, a gymnasium 
boy of sixteen or even fifteen is looked upon with 
more deference than would be shown a boy five 
years older anywhere else in the world. It was 
a common thing in Petrograd at this time — 
indeed it had been so always — to see a crowd of 
people accept the leadership of a boy of fifteen 
or sixteen. , 

For these reasons I had no doubt of the im- 
portant part that the Boy Scout organization 
in Russia would be called upon to play in the 
task of maintaining order. 

The Boy Scout headquarters in our district 
was located in Kirochnaia Ulitsa Street, and I 
immediately got in touch with them. In answer 
to my inquiry, they informed me that they 
would be very glad to shoulder part of the 
responsibility of guarding the district, and that 
very day fifty boys, under Chief -Scout Sergei 
Chernov, reported at our headquarters. 

They were a fine-looking lot of boys. In 
their new uniforms they had a trim, military 
appearance, and, while they were all well under 
eighteen years of age, they acted like men. 

11 Do your boys understand," I asked of Sergei 

Chernov, "that the work we are going to ask 

them to do allows of very little time for pleasure? 

We don't watch the clock in thi% game and there 

18 [ 269 ] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

is considerable danger involved in it. It is 
going to be a case of all work and no play for a 
while, I imagine." 

"Our uniforms, commissar, stand for cheer- 
fulness, courage, obedience, and service," was 
the leader's prompt response. 

The boys were supplied with rifles, pistols, 
and ammunition, and we had horses for some of 
them. For a day or two only ordinary routine 
work was required. There were a certain num- 
ber of hours of patrol for each of us, and then a 
few hours off on reserve duty. An occasional 
clash with rioters broke the monotony, but there 
was nothing of a very serious character. 

But as the days went by conditions in Petro- 
grad grew worse. The prisons had been thrown 
open to release political prisoners, but, of course, 
the criminals escaped, too. Robberies and hold- 
ups were hourly occurrences. No one's life was 
safe. It was a case of might makes right, and 
we realized that our work was cut out for us. 

Our militiamen suffered at the hands of the 
lawbreakers. The criminals used automobiles 
to a great extent. They were able to make 
rapid sorties against our armed guards and dis- 
appear after firing a few volleys from the win- 
dows of the car. In this way many of our boys 
fell at their posts without even getting a chance 
to fire back at their assailants. 

I attended a# meeting of all the local com- 
[270] 



REVOLUTION! 

missars and we notified Kerensky of the situa- 
tion. As a result 1,200 soldiers were put at our 
disposal to use in case of emergency. 

To cope with the motor-bandits, I ordered that 
all cars without lights should be stopped and 
examined and that every automobile-driver 
should be compelled to procure and show a 
special permit to drive at night. 

This measure only made matters worse. Sergei 
Chernov reported to me that his boys were 
being kidnapped by the terrorists. 

"They come driving down the streets at a 
terrific pace," he said, "and when our Scout 
steps out into the middle of the street and chal- 
lenges them they slow down, invite the guard to 
step to the car to inspect their permits, and as 
soon as he approaches them they seize him and 
carry him off!" 

I was at a loss to know how to guard against 
this menace. 

"Let me suggest something, Paul," said Cher- 
nov, with whom I had become quite intimate. 
"Let us station our men by twos in the dark 
streets, instead of singly. Then, while one of 
our men is examining the driver's permit the 
other can stand by and cover the occupants of 
the car, and prevent any funny business." 

This plan sounded so sensible that we imme- 
diately put it into execution, and it worked as 
well as it sounded. No more Boy Scouts were 

[271] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

kidnapped, while, on the other hand, we arrested 
many of the most vicious characters who had 
been terrorizing the neighborhood.. 

Besides guarding the streets, our work in- 
volved raiding the hang-outs of criminal bands 
and bodies of anti-revolutionists. We had many 
desperate rights in different sections of the town, 
but with the help of the soldiers whom Kerensky 
placed at our disposal we invariably got the 
best of it. 

The worst fight of this character occurred in 
the slums of the city, where we had to keep a 
house on the Obvodny Canal surrounded for 
thirty-two hours before we finally broke in and 
captured the inmates. There were more than 
three hundred men and women, many of them 
fully armed, in our capture. Besides the pris- 
oners we secured thousands of rifles, a great 
deal of ammunition which had apparently 
been stolen from the arsenals, and a lot of ap- 
paratus for manufacturing alcohol and counter- 
feit money. 

After three and one-half weeks of this sort of 
work my mother and sister arrived in Petro- 
grad and begged me to give it up and resume 
my musical career. To humor them I re- 
signed, and Chief -Scout Chernov became com- 
missar in my place. He was a brave boy 
and had all the qualities of leadership. In 
addition to that he was very popular with the 

[272] 



REVOLUTION! 

rest of the boys and they would do anything 
he asked of them. 

Little by little, under Kerensky's rule, order 
was re-established in the city. All the former 
heads and officials of the government were placed 
under arrest and held for trial, and the policemen 
of the old regime were sent to the front lines as 
soldiers. 

Boris, who had taken an active part in the 
work of the militia, went back to college and I 
resumed my studying. 

Under Kerensky's leadership a new offensive 
against the Huns was rapidly being developed, 
and we began to hope that Russia would once 
again become an important factor in the Great 
War. 

Unfortunately, however, the simple-hearted 
Russians were readily fooled by the intrigues of 
the Germans, who, under flags of truce, managed 
to get into our trenches and carry on their in- 
famous work. 

Everywhere I went I saw the evidences of 
German propaganda. 

Fooled by the fair words of the Hun agita- 
tors, our workmen abandoned their jobs in the 
munition-factories. I knew what that meant 
to our boys at the front. It made me sick at 
heart to recall the frightful scenes of panic and 
disorder into which our troops had been thrown 
because of treachery in our High Command, 

[273] 



THE. YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

and when I saw how successfully the Huns were 
working their way into the inner councils of the 
new government I knew that all the well-laid 
plans of Kerensky and other faithful workers 
would go for naught. 

The Battalion of Death, composed of Russian 
women, was demonstrating that our women were 
not afraid to shed their blood for the cause, and 
millions of our men who were intelligent enough 
to see through the German trickery were willing 
enough to carry on, but without ammunition 
and supplies all their noble sacrifices were in 
vain, and German propaganda in Petrograd was 
making more converts every day. 

The outlook, as I saw it, was very gloomy. I 
would gladly have gone to the front again to 
serve under Kerensky, but I felt that our cause 
was doomed. I was thoroughly ashamed at 
the way our men were acting. Apparently they 
had forgotten the long list of crimes that the 
Huns had committed, and when the enemy of- 
fered a truce they weakly accepted it, while our 
allies were straining every nerve and fiber to 
beat Germany. 

I thought of the noble stand America had 
taken. The idea of Americans traveling three 
thousand miles across the ocean to fight for 
an ideal, while my own countrymen were lay- 
ing down their arms, forgetful of what their 
comrades had suffered and were still suffer- 

[274] 



REVOLUTION! 

ing at the hands of the Hun, spurred me into 
action. 

The Russian eagle had given up the fight, but 
in far-off America there was an eagle of another 
species that was flapping her wings and making 
ready for the fray. 

I would leave everything and enlist under the 
flag of the U. S. A. 



XVII 

ACROSS SIBERIA 

GETTING out of Russia was by no means an 
easy task. My plan was to get to Vladi- 
vostok and from there take a steamer to Japan. 
The trip across the continent took eleven days 
and it was necessary, of course, to secure sleeping 
accommodations . 

When I went to the ticket-office to make the 
necessary arrangements I found a long line of 
people waiting. I took my place in the line and 
waited hour after hour, but the ticket-office 
closed for the day before I was taken care of, 
and rather than go through the same perform- 
ance again the next day I decided to remain in 
line all through the night, as the others were 
doing. 

The next day, however, the same thing oc- 
curred. When the ticket-window was closed 
for the day I was still several hundred feet away 
from it. Fortunately, some of my Boy Scout 
friends saw me standing in line and volunteered 
to hold my place for me while I got some rest, 

[276] 



ACROSS SIBERIA 

and in that way, in course of time, I finally got 
my ticket. It took me fifty-two hours to get 
it, but if it had taken fifty- two days I would 
have stuck to my post, because I was deter- 
mined to leave the country and get to America 
to take another whack at the Huns. 

A few days later, with a small trunk con- 
taining my uniform, medals, documents, and 
other personal belongings and a case containing 
my violin, I left Petrograd. 

On the train I struck up an acquaintance with 
an engineer whom I came to call George. I for- 
get what his last name was. George was bound 
for Vladivostok on some government business. 
He was a very fine young man and we became 
very close friends. We couldn't help being 
"close" because our compartment, which was 
intended to hold only two passengers, was made 
to accommodate seven. Five soldiers crowded 
their way into it and we were jammed so tight 
that it was very hard for us to get into the cor- 
ridor to go to the dining-room, and we got our 
meals by jumping out of the windows when the 
train stopped at stations. 

All along the railway lines, at the more im- 
portant stations on the Trans-Siberian Railroad, 
the trains stopped for from ten to thirty minutes. 
To get out and rush for the restaurant, grab a 
sandwich or a plate of borsch or schie and run 
back to the train with a handful of pirojki — 

[277] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

small roll-like cakes made of butter-dough and 
filled with meat, cheese, or jelly — became one 
of the most exciting features of our trip during 
the first three or four days while we were passing 
through central Russia. 

It was very monotonous traveling until we 
reached the Ural Mountains. Mile after mile of 
wheat-fields was all we had seen for two days, 
but now we were going through the great mining 
areas. There were enormous mountains on 
either side of the rails. As our train wound 
its way along the zigzag tracks we could fre- 
quently look through our rear-car windows and 
see the front of our train. 

At one moment we were going down a grade 
so steep that we wondered why the cars did not 
pile up on top of one another, and the next 
moment we were climbing a mountain-side at 
such a slow gait that we felt like getting out and 
walking. It was all very beautiful, and we 
would have enjoyed it immensely had it not 
been for the crowded condition of the train 
which made comfortable traveling out of the 
question. 

After we had traversed the Ural Mountains 
and entered Siberia we plunged into the great 
Taiga Forest. Here was a part of Russia which 
was practically unexplored. Thousands and 
thousands of square miles of timberland un- 
touched by the hand of man and, for the most 

[278] 



ACROSS SIBERIA 

part, un visited except by hunters, spread before 
us. I had read how these hunters penetrate 
the forest in their quest for fur skins. The 
region is so far beyond the pale of civilization 
that it is necessary to take a supply of provi- 
sions to last for months. In the winter, when 
the hunting is best, the cold is so intense and the 
snow so deep that many a hunter perishes. 
Their food consists of frozen borsch (soup) 
which lasts for months, nature providing the 
ice-box. 

While we were still in this wild section of the 
continent we came to a bridge. The train was 
about in the center of it when our car gave a 
sudden jerk and seemed to rise in the air. 

"Pull the emergency brake!" yelled George, 
who had sensed what had happened. 

I was standing near the emergency rope and 
pulled it, and the next moment everything 
crashed about us. The windows were smashed 
and the trunks and other baggage fell from their 
stands. I crouched in the corner of the com- 
partment, waiting for the end. Our car was 
wabbling from one side of the bridge to the 
other, and I expected it at any moment to go 
over the side and land in the canon hundreds 
of feet below! 

There was a terrific noise. People were 
screaming, the train was pounding the sides of 
the bridge, glass was crashing, and the wooden 

[279] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

cars were being splintered. The brakes held 
the wheels so firmly that they couldn't revolve, 
and as they slid along the tracks the friction 
splintered the rails. 

Finally we came to a stop. Our car was 
standing end up! Those of us who were still 
conscious were afraid to breathe for fear of up- 
setting the balance. 

The whole thing probably didn't take a 
minute, but it seemed like hours to me, and I 
know that at least a million thoughts flitted 
through my mind in that short space of time. 
Above them all was the natural reflection, "After 
all I have successfully escaped, am I at last to 
perish in a miserable old train accident?" 

George was the first to extricate himself. 
He laughed nervously as he climbed out of the 
car window and I tumbled after him. When 
I landed on the tracks I found that we had suc- 
ceeded in crossing the bridge, which was piled 
high with wood, glass, iron, and other debris. 

Some of the men and women who had been 
standing on the platform had lost their nerve at 
the first crash and jumped. All had been 
severely injured or killed. From the front cars 
of the train, which had not left the tracks, the 
passengers and conductors came running toward 
us. Telephone wires were tapped and communi- 
cation established with Krasnoyarsk, the nearest 

big city. Doctors and nurses were immediately 

f 280 1 



ACROSS SIBERIA 

sent out to take care of the injured, and wreck- 
ing-crews arrived to repair the bridge and 
tracks. 

In the mean while our baggage had been 
recovered and transferred to the front cars, and 
we continued on our journey, more crowded 
than ever. The accident, we learned, had 
been caused by the overcrowding of the rear 
cars, which had put too much pressure on the 
trucks and one of them had collapsed. 

When we reached Krasnoyarsk George and I 
were still so shaken up from our experience 
that we decided to break our journey for a day 
or two and rest up. Krasnoyarsk was a typical 
Siberian city, with cobbled pavements and low 
wooden buildings, few more than two stories 
high, although the population was in the neigh- 
borhood of one hundred thousand. 

We stayed there for a couple of days and then 
took the next train for the east. 

When we came to Baikal Lake I saw again the 
scenes of my infancy. I was born at Verchne 
Udinsk, and the wonderful scenery of this 
region had left its impress on my mind, although 
we had moved to Harbin when I was only three 
years old. 

From the shores of the lake the mountains 
rise almost perpendicularly. Formerly, when 
the Trans-Siberian Railway was first finished, 
the trains rode right on to ferry-boats and were 

[281] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

carried across Lake Baikal, a distance of sixty 
miles, but later a road was cut around the lake, 
right through the foot of the mountains, and it 
was along this picturesque route — with the 
mountains rising majestically on one side of the 
track and the clear water of the lake spreading 
out as far as the eye could reach on the other — 
that we traveled. 

After we had crossed the steppes and gotten 
into Manchuria the character of the population 
changed. Here the Siberians were of the Mon- 
golian type, but my childhood had been spent 
in Harbin, and I was not unfamiliar with Man- 
churian characteristics. 

I got off at Harbin. I was anxious to renew 
acquaintance with the friends of my childhood, 
and, besides, my father had commissioned me to 
look over some of his property in that section of 
the country. George went on to Vladivostok, 
and I promised to look him up when I reached 
that city. 

During the few days I stayed in Harbin I 
spent a lot of time with my cousins and boy- 
hood friends, who were still at school and who 
were green with envy when I told them of the 
wonderful chance I had had to get into the 
fighting. 

At Harbin I was able to get news of the recent 
developments in my country and of the terrible 
menace of the Hun drive on the western front? 
'"■"" J282J 



ACROSS SIBERIA 

It reminded me of my main purpose, and I 
packed up my things and started off for Vladi- 
vostok. There I spent only a few hours with 
George, as I was able to catch a steamer just 
leaving for Tsuruga, Japan. From there I took 
a train to Yokohama. There was no steamer 
leaving for America for several weeks, and, im- 
patient as I was to get once again into action, I 
just had to wait. 

There was a lot to be seen in the Japanese city. 
Incidentally, I was able to raise some money for 
wounded soldiers by playing at concerts, and so 
my time was not altogether wasted. At last, 
about the middle of June, 191 7, I secured pas- 
sage on the Shenya Maro, a Japanese passenger 
steamer of some twenty-four thousand tons, 
bound for San Francisco, via Honolulu. 

The voyage took about eighteen days. It 
was a most interesting trip, but it seemed un- 
bearably long. Even the twenty-four hours that 
we spent in Honolulu, where at Young's Hotel I 
recognized in the orchestra a young man who 
had studied with me at the Conservatoire and 
with whom I talked over old times, seemed 
twenty-four hours' unnecessary delay, but at 
length we started off again and eventually 
reached San Francisco. 

I shall never forget my emotions as the glad 
tidings of "land in sight" was spread about the 
boat. It meant much, I suppose, to most of 

[283] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

the people on that vessel, but to me it meant an 
opportunity to fight again for the great cause 
under a flag that had been unfurled with the 
most glorious motives that had ever actuated a 
great nation, "to make the world safe for 
democracy"! 



XVIII 

IN THE LAND OF THE FREE 

T LANDED in San Francisco in July, 191 7. Be- 
1 sides my native tongue, I could speak Ger- 
man, but German was very much in disfavor on 
the Pacific coast at that time, and I knew prac- 
tically no English. It did not take me long to 
realize that my lack of English was a serious 
handicap. If I was to fight with American 
troops I would certainly have to understand the 
language of the country. 

At the Russian consulate, to which I paid a 
visit very soon after I arrived, I was told that I 
would find it very difficult to enlist in the arnry, 
because of my age. 

"An American boy of sixteen might be able 
to camouflage his youth and thus get by the 
recruiting -officers," I was told, "but you are a 
foreigner and will have to show your papers, 
which will disclose your true age." 

This information was very discouraging, but 
it proved to be correct. When I applied at the 
recruiting-office on Market Street I was received 

19 [ 285 J 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

royally. The sergeant on duty couldn't under- 
stand exactly what I wanted, but he rightly 
conjectured that I wouldn't be bothering him 
if I didn't want to enlist, and when I showed him 
my medals he pulled out a long recruiting-blank 
and started to ask me questions. 

As he knew no Russian and I knew very little 
English, we did not progress very far until he 
sent out for some one to act as interpreter. That 
queered it. One of the first questions I was 
asked was my nationality, and when they found 
that I was a foreigner they wanted to see my 
passport. 

"I like your medals and I think you would 
make a good soldier," remarked the sergeant, 
ruefully, through the interpreter, "but how 
about this 'sixteen' years of age? I can't re- 
cruit you unless you're eighteen, and the papers 
here say you're only sixteen. What can you 
say to that?" 

I could only shrug my shoulders. For two 
years I had been fighting for Russia, but ap- 
parently I was not yet old enough to fight for 
Uncle Sam. 

I recalled the consul's remark regarding Ameri- 
can boys of sixteen. A white lie would be suf- 
ficient to solve the problem for them. Ap- 
parently the only thing for me to do was to 
pass myself off as an American. To do that I 
would have to be able to speak English. If I 

[286] 



IN THE LAND OF THE FREE 

stuck to it, I might acquire the language in a 
couple of months. That was the only thing 
for me to do. 

With this plan in mind, I decided to return 
to Honolulu, where, with the help of my Rus- 
sian friend, I believed I could rapidly master 
the English language and could then renew 
my efforts to enlist, with a better chance of 
success. 

I took the first steamer that sailed for the 
Hawaiian Islands, and for the next two months 
I remained at Honolulu, supporting myself by 
playing at concerts which my friend arranged 
for me. There I met a Doctor Straub, who 
took a great interest in me and did everything 
he could to further my plans. After two 
months' study my English had greatly improved, 
but, at Doctor Straub's suggestion, I returned 
to San Francisco to continue my studies there. 
Through his assistance I joined the Technical 
High School at Oakland, where I put in a good 
month. 

The American Red Cross was actively engaged 
at that time in raising funds, and, as I was still 
unable to fight for the cause as a soldier, I de- 
cided that I could at least do my bit with my 
violin. Music was a language that every one 
understood and one that I could speak better 
than any other. Through friends that I had 
made, I volunteered to play at various Red 

[287] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

Cross functions, and in that way I met a 
number of prominent San Francisco people. 

Coming back from Honolulu, I had gotten 
into conversation with the barber on the boat, 
and when he learned that I was a Russian violin- 
ist he suggested that I call to see a friend of his, 
a Mr. J. Mortimer Smythe, as soon as I got to 
San Francisco. 

"Mr. Smythe is a wonderful concert man- 
ager," he explained. "If he consents to take 
charge of you, your fortune will be made." 

At the first available opportunity, therefore, 
I called on Mr. Smythe. He was living at one 
of the big hotels. He became very enthusiastic 
after I had played for him. 

"My boy," he said, affectionately, patting 
me on the shoulder, "you are a wonderful vio- 
linist. With your war record as a foundation, 
you can make a lot of money in this country — 
under the proper management." 

I told him that money -making was not my 
present object. 

"I came here to fight for America," I replied. 
"Until I am eligible for the American army, I 
want to serve in whatever capacity will mean the 
most for the cause. Through my violin I can 
raise funds for the Red Cross and similar organi- 
zations. For them I would like to make as much 
money as possible out of my violin-playing, but 
for myself I do not want to make a fortune!" 

[288] 



IN THE LAND OF THE FREE 

"You talk like a foolish boy!" he exclaimed. 
"Of course you should play for the Red Cross. 
That is right. Also you should make some 
money for yourself. Charity begins at home, 
doesn't it? Come and see me to-morrow, my 
boy, and we will draw up a little contract, and 
I will arrange a big concert for you at once!" 

There was something about the man that 
made me suspicious of him. Although he had 
a name that sounded English enough, his accent 
was anything but English, and a large tin box 
which I observed on top of a closet in his room 
suggested to me the probable answer. On it 
was lettered: 

"J. M. SCHMIDT." 

Feeling so lukewarm regarding this Mr. J. 
Mortimer Smythe, I did not go to see him the 
next day or the day after. A day or two later, 
however, he called to see me and made me a 
most alluring offer. He said he would arrange 
sixty concerts for me during the year and would 
give me half the proceeds, guaranteeing me no 
less than thirty thousand dollars for the year! 

Thirty thousand dollars! That was certainly 
a lot of money. If everything was square and 
aboveboard, it seemed to me that I ought to 
take advantage of the offer. 

Smythe had with him a contract which he 
[289] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

wanted me to sign then and there, but I told 
him to leave it with me that I might study it. 

The next day I took the contract to the 
Russian consul and he pointed out a number of 
features in it that ought to be changed. 

"The way it now stands," he explained, 
"Smythe can hold you, but you cannot hold 
him to it — although, of course, the fact that you 
are only sixteen would let you out of the con- 
tract, anyway." 

I took the contract to Smythe the next day 
and told him of the changes I wanted made. He 
got very mad and said I was a silly boy. 

"I may be a silly boy," I replied, "but I'm 
not silly enough to sign this contract the way you 
have it. If you will make the changes that I 
ask, I will sign it." 

When he brought me the contract again, the 
following day, I told him that I would have to 
take a day or two to study it — which meant, of 
course, a chance to submit it to my friend the 
consul. 

Again I had to ask for certain changes and 
again Smythe got angry, threatening to tear 
the whole thing to pieces. 

"You make me very mad, Iogolevitch," he 
said. "You are a very foolish boy. You will 
sign the contract the way it is or you will have 
to find another manager!" 

When he saw that I was not very upset at his 
[ 290 ] 



IN THE LAND OF THE FREE 

threat he changed his tactics and became very 
amiable, making all the corrections I demanded 
and assuring me that I would never regret having 
entered into business relations with him. 

I at once moved into Smythe's hotel and from 
that time on all my bills were charged to him. 
He had some photographs taken of me and got 
out some literature featuring me as the "famous 
Russian violinist." 

Under his auspices I played at several con- 
certs given for the benefit of Red Cross and 
similar organizations — at least, that was the way 
the announcements always read. As a matter 
of fact, I soon found out that these concerts 
were given mainly for the benefit of J. Mortimer 
Smythe and Paul Iogolevitch. We got the 
lion's share of the proceeds, and the trifling bal- 
ance went to the charitable or patriotic cause 
which my audience really intended to patronize. 

The more I thought over this phase of my 
work the less I liked it. In a way it was taking 
money under false pretenses. Tickets were 
bought by people because they thought the 
money was going to a worthy organization. 
They had no idea of contributing to my sup- 
port or to Smythe's. The proposition didn't 
seem on the square to me, and I spoke to Smythe 
about it. 

"Now don't you worry about that end of it, 

Paul," he answered, good-naturedly. "You're 

[291] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

a musician, not a business man. That's why 
you have to have a manager — that's why you 
pay me half you make to show you how to make 
it. You just stick to your violin and leave the 
engagements to me!" 

"I don't question your ability to make profit- 
able engagements for me," I answered. "But 
I am worried at the idea of making capital out 
of patriotic and charitable affairs. Let us give 
the Red Cross a fair share of the proceeds and 
I shall feel easier about it!" 

Smythe refused to discuss the subject with me 
any further. 

' ' You made a contract to play at all concerts 
that I would arrange for you. You are getting 
the fifty-fifty I agreed to pay you. That's all 
there is to it. Don't let us talk about this 
foolishness again ! " 

I let the matter drop then, but the next day 
when he told me that he was arranging a series 
of Red Cross concerts for me the subject came 
up again. 

"The only hitch in the program," he said, "is 
the percentage. I'm holding out for seventy- 
five per cent, of the proceeds, and they want 
to give us only fifty per cent. I told them we 
won't play for less than seventy-five per cent., 
and that's final!" 

"And I tell you that 'we' won't play for more 
than twenty-five per cent., and that's final!" I 

[ 292 J 



IN THE LAND OF THE FREE 

replied, hotly, my mind having been made up 
in the mean time to take a firm stand on this 
question. 




"YOU CALL ME A ROBBER, YOU RUSSIAN DOC.!" HE SHOUTED, 
JUMPING AT ME AND SEIZING ME BY THE THROAT 

1 ' What ! " he shouted. ' ' You mean to threat- 
en me! You will refuse to carry out your con- 
tract?" 

' ' I will not carry out my contract if it means 
robbing the Red Cross!" 

[ 2 93] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

"Do you call me a robber, you Russian dog! " 
he shouted, jumping at me and seizing me by 
the throat. 

I struggled to free myself, but I was helpless 
in his grasp. He was nearly six feet tall and 
very powerful, and he shook me as a cat worries 
a mouse, and then he threw me across the bed. 

Without another word I reached for my hat 
and started for the door. 

"Look here, young man, before you go, un- 
derstand this : the contract with the Red Cross 
will be made the way I want it, not according 
to your crazy notions. The first concert will 
be given next Wednesday, provided they meet 
my terms, which I expect they will. You will 
be ready next Wednesday to play for the Red 
Cross, understand, and our share of the pro- 
ceeds will be seventy-five per cent.!" 

"Mr. Smythe, I will not play for you again. 
The way you have treated me just now would 
make it impossible for me to play for several 
weeks, anyway, but I have decided to work out 
my own salvation without your help. Good 
day!" 

He sprang toward me as I closed the door, but 
I hurried to the elevator and was half-way down 
before he could get to the elevator shaft. 

I did not go back to the hotel that night. In- 
stead I slept at the house of a friend in Oakland, 
and I slept better because of having broken off 

[294] 



IN THE LAND OF THE FREE 

my relations with Smythe. The more I thought 
of the kind of contracts he had been making for 
me the more I realized how impossible it was 
that I could continue under his management. 

The next day when I went to the hotel to 
get my things I was informed by the manager 
that my room was not available to me until I 
had paid my bill, which amounted to several 
hundred dollars. 

"Mr. Smythe will pay it," I answered. "He 
is my manager." 

"He was your manager, but he tells me that 
you have broken your contract and that I must 
look to you for the payment of the bill." 

"I cannot pay you now," I answered. "I 
am not in a position to do so. But eventually, 
of course, if I am liable for this bill, I — " 

"Well, you can do what you like about it, 
young man," he replied, sarcastically, "but un- 
til your bill is paid you will not be allowed into 
your room and we will hold on to your belong- 
ings. If you don't settle up very soon, we'll 
clean out the room and dispose of your things." 

"Well," I retorted, hoping to scare him, 
"when you sell my violin see that you get a fair 
price for it, or I'll hold the hotel responsible for 
its value. It's a Stradivarius and cost twelve 
thousand dollars!" 

Apparently the manager didn't scare much 
for the next day when I went to the hotel I 

[295] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

found that the room I had occupied had been 
assigned to some one else and all my things 
had indeed been removed. 

I went to the manager and asked him for an 
explanation. 

"That's Mr. Smythe's orders," he answered. 
"He hired the room and he gave it up." 

"Well, if he hired the room, how can you hold 
my things responsible for the bill?" I asked. 
"If you don't deliver my property at once, I'll 
bring suit against the hotel." 

The manager's admission that the room had 
been charged to Smythe had come from him in- 
advertently, and it made him mad to think that 
I had seen its significance. 

"You clear out of here," he shouted, "or I'll 
put you out." 

"But—" 

"You clear out of here!" 

"Just a moment. Be fair about — " 

"Clear out of here!" 

This time he raised his voice so loud that the 
house detective walked over and I realized it 
was useless to argue any further. 

I went immediately to a Mr. Mitchell, whom 
I had met in connection with one of my concerts. 
He and his wife were two of the first Americans 
I had met after I landed in San Francisco, and 
their kindness to me did much to stimulate my 
love for America. Right from the start they 

[296] 



IN THE LAND OF THE FREE 

did everything they could to make the way easy 
for me, and they promised to help me whenever 
I needed it. 

Mr. Mitchell went with me to the hotel, and 
after he had presented my case to the mana- 
ger my things were delivered to me without 
another word and apologies were exacted by 
Mr. Mitchell. We did not see anything of Mr. 
Smythe, although Mr. Mitchell asked for him. 

A day or two later, however, I got a letter 
from the city prosecuting attorney, demanding 
that I appear at his office at once or a warrant 
would be issued against me for obtaining money 
under false pretenses. 

I went to see the prosecuting attorney. I 
did not know what the charge referred to, but 
I did not want to be thrown into prison. I knew 
very little about legal matters and I was afraid 
of them. 

When I presented myself to the official he 
explained that a complaint had been made by 
J. Mortimer Smythe, stating that I had ob- 
tained board, lodging, and money from him 
and had then refused to carry out my part of 
the contract. 

I explained the whole situation. 

"I have made no pretenses," I urged. "I 
made a contract with a man who assaulted me 
and who seems to want to bleed the Red Cross 
and similar organizations, and I don't want to be 

1 297] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

connected with him any more, that's all. Is 
that a crime in this country?" 

"No, young man. If that is all there is to it, 
it is no crime and I will not issue a warrant, but, 




"he seems to want to. bleed the red cross that's all — IS 

THAT A CRIME IN THIS COUNTRY?" 



of course, I cannot accept your mere word for it. 
Have you any friends here who can testify in 
your behalf?" 

I told him of Mr. Mitchell. 

"Why didn't you mention Mitchell at first, 
[ 29 8 J 



IN THE LAND OF THE FREE 

young fellow? If Mitchell vouches for you, 
that's all I'll ask. I'll call him up." 

He got Mr. Mitchell on the 'phone and asked 
him a few questions about me, and then he told 
me to go and not to bother any more about Mr. 
Smythe. 

"Incidentally," he added, "I have half a sus- 
picion that this Mr. Smythe will bear some in- 
vestigating himself. His face and his accent 
don't quite fit his name. I guess we'll let the 
Alien Enemy authorities have a talk with him 
while we've got our mind on 'false pretenses.'" 

That was the end of my experiences with Mr. 
Smythe, but later I heard that the authorities 
had decided that he was too German to be safe 
at large and so they interned him. 

In the mean while I went to live at the same 
hotel as Mr. Mitchell, who assumed responsi- 
bility for all my expenses and paid all my debts. 
When I added it all up I found I owed him more 
than two hundred dollars. 

This indebtedness bothered me because I was 
anxious to get into the army and I did not want 
to go away without settling with my benefactor. 
By this time I could speak English fairly well 
and I thought I might possibly be able to pass 
myself off as an American if the recruiting- 
officer was not too inquisitive. I have learned 
so much more English since that time that I 
can't help laughing at my conceited notion that 

[299] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

I could ever have passed myself off as an Ameri- 
can upon the strength of what I then knew. 

The easiest way for me to earn some money 
quickly, naturally, was by means of my violin, 
but I did not know exactly how to go about 
securing an engagement. To arrange a con- 
cert required time and influence and some re- 
sponsibility and capital, and I was anxious to 
settle up as quickly as possible. 

Walking along a side-street, I heard the strains 
of a violin coming from the basement of a build- 
ing. It was a sort of saloon and dancing-pavil- 
ion combined. I listened a moment to the 
wretched performance that was providing the 
time for the dancing, and then I went down the 
steps and walked into the place. There was a 
bar at one side of the room and small round 
tables, with no table-cloths, filled the rest of the 
place. Some men and women were dancing 
and others were seated at the tables, drinking. 
At one end was a platform raised about one 
foot from the ground, and upon that was a piano 
at which a rather seedy-looking young fellow 
was struggling violently. Beside him stood 
the violinist whose work I had heard on the 
street and who had just placed his violin on 
top of the piano and was now engaged in 
what was apparently a more gratifying task — 
swallowing a long drink of beer which was wafted 
mysteriously to him from behind the piano. 

[300] 



IN THE LAND OF THE FREE 

When a waiter came over to me to get my 
order I asked him, merely out of curiosity, how 
much a violinist like that could earn a week. 

"If you're looking to steal this guy's job, kid, 
you might just as well blow, see? He's got it 
nailed down, and there ain't a chance in the 
world for yer. Been fiddlin' here for six mont's 
now, and been giving satisfaction. Drags down 
good money, too — eighteen dollars per — and 
the drinks! Why, he's even got the bulge on 
some of us guys — him a fiddler, dragging down 
more than a suds-carrier! What do yer know 
about that!" 

I could hardly help laughing at the waiter's 
comparison of his "profession" with mine, even 
when mine was so poorly represented as it was 
in this case, but I said nothing. 

The incident gave me an idea. Why not 
play for a week or two in some decent cafe or 
hotel? 

At the first hotel I came to I went in and 
asked the manager how to go about securing a 
position of that kind. He gave me the name of 
some amusement agents who made a specialty 
of placing musical talent in cafes, and through 
them I secured a cabaret engagement at a well- 
known grill known as Fred's, at Geary and 
Mason streets. I was to play during meals 
and was to receive two hundred dollars per 
week for my services. 
20 1 3 QI 1 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

The idea of playing at a cabaret was not par- 
ticularly pleasing to me. It did not seem quite 
to measure up to the dignity of my profession. 
I had played before the Czar of Russia and had 
toured the capitals of Europe, and I felt it was 
far below my standing to play for the amuse- 
ment of diners in a public restaurant — it was 
only a grade or two higher than the work of the 
"fiddler" on Sutter Street — who got "eighteen 
dollars per and the drinks." 

But there was no use in being too particular. 
My main object was to get enough money to 
settle up and enlist, and it didn't matter much 
how I got the money as long as it was honestly 
earned. 

I "signed up with the proprietor. I would 
play twice a day for him. I was to be featured 
as a soloist, and, of course, there was to be a 
certain amount of advertising in which my 
name was to be played up big. 

This was during the holiday season of 191 7. 

The advertising filled the grill at the hours 
when I was scheduled to play, and no doubt it 
proved a good investment for the proprietor, 
but at the end of the second week he decided to 
call the deal off. 

"Your work is very fine, Mr. Iogolevitch," 
he explained, "but I am afraid it is too good for 
cafe patrons. They come here to dance, you 
know, and they listen to music with their feet. 

[3 02 ] 



IN THE LAND OF THE FREE 

Anything aimed above their ankles goes over 
their heads! Foolish people, but what can we 
do?" 

I did not argue the subject with him. With 
the four hundred dollars I had earned I would 
be able to pay off all my debts, and that was all 
I wanted. The way would then be clear for 
me to enlist. 

Early in January, 191 8, I presented myself 
at the recruiting-office on Market Street. This 
time I decided to call myself Paul Ingle, born in 
San Francisco, age eighteen, father and mother 
dead. 

As I walked into the office the private sitting 
at the receiving desk turned to the sergeant and 
remarked in a voice not so low that I didn't 
overhear him: 

"See who's here! He's the Roosian fiddler 
at Fred's!" 

That killed all my plans, but as long as I was 
there I thought I would go as far as I could. 
It was useless to attempt to pass myself off as 
an American, however, and so I gave the facts 
concerning myself. 

The sergeant was very much interested and 
said he would put in my application and see if 
anything could be done, but he thought I was 
"up against it." 

"As the law stands, we won't take 'em under 
eighteen," he explained. "Of course, if you 

U°3) 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

can get Congress to change the law, why, that's 
different. Sorry, young feller, but that's how 
it stands." 

I went home again very much discouraged. 
I had traveled a long way to take up again the 
fight against the Hun, but it seemed that my 
fighting days were over for a while. 

That day I read an inspiring article in one of 
the magazines in which it was pointed out that 
there were more ways of fighting for America 
than by shouldering a gun or digging a trench 
or making shells. 

"Many a man is eating his heart out," the 
article ran, "because, for one reason or another, 
he can't get over to France. Because he can't 
fight he concludes he can't help others to fight. 
That is a grave mistake. There are hundreds 
of ways to ' do your bit ' without ever getting 
within a hundred miles of a gun or a munition- 
factory." 

And then the article went on to enumerate 
various forms of war service — raising funds for 
the Red Cross and similar institutions, speed- 
ing up the work in industrial plants engaged 
in war work and other war-time activities. 
"Decide what you can do best and then ar- 
range to do it for Uncle Sam!" 

The article gave me a new angle. I had made 
a fair success as a soldier, but when I came to 
analyze my exploits I felt- that whatever I had 

[304I 



IN THE LAND OF THE FREE 

accomplished was more the result of good fort- 
une than any great military skill. As a matter 
of fact, how could I possibly have any military 
value when I had never had a chance to study 
the science and all I knew was what I had picked 
up incidentally in actual work? 

The more I thought over this subject the more 
firmly I became convinced that my principal 
assets were my musical ability and my knowledge 
of conditions in Russia, both of which, I figured, 
might possibly be useful in the great cause. My 
musical talent I could capitalize in the form of 
concerts, and my knowledge of conditions, if 
properly presented to industrial workers, might 
help to "speed up" production. If I told them 
of the slaughter of Russian troops which I had 
witnessed and which was brought about solely 
by the lack of ammunition, and if I could 
convey to them even partially an idea of the 
privations which soldiers at the front have to 
endure, it might stimulate them and indi- 
rectly help the cause more than any direct help 
I could give as a soldier. 

These possibilities made such a strong appeal 
to me that I decided to talk it all over with Mr. 
Mitchell, and he declared that I was entirely 
correct. 

"You have done your best to enlist and you 
are not eligible, Paul," he argued. "But even 
if you were acceptable, I really believe that 

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THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

your value to this country would be greatest in 
other ways than by your enlistment. We have 
plenty of men. The draft will keep our army up 
to the required strength, but unless we can get 
the men across — unless we can increase our 
merchant marine fast enough to bridge the 
ocean — all our men won't avail us anything. 
There is more valuable work to be done, Paul, 
by speeding up war work than there is by in- 
dividual enlistments." 

The upshot of this conversation and several 
others that followed was that I left for the 
East, where the opportunities to participate in 
war activities, we figured, were greater. I would 
forget all about wanting to fight for America 
and devote myself to the equally valuable task 
of helping others to fight harder. 



XIX 

UNDER THE AMERICAN EAGLE 

T ARRIVED in New York while one of the 
* Red Cross drives was in full swing. With 
letters from the various organizations for whom 
I had played in San Francisco, it was not dif- 
ficult for me to get into the work in the East, 
and I was given plenty of opportunity to per- 
form at concerts given under the auspices of the 
different patriotic and charitable organizations 
— and I didn't exact one-hundredth of the toll 
which my former manager, J. Mortimer Smythe 
would have demanded for my services. 

At a meeting on the Liberty Platform in Madi- 
son Square I met Corporal Mouvet, of the 
French Foreign Legion. One of the compen- 
sations of the work I was now engaged in was 
the association it brought with people who had 
already accomplished great things and who were 
willing to give of their best to the great cause. 

Corporal Mouvet was an American, but early 
in the war, long before America got into it, he 
had given up his career and joined the Foreign 

[307] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

Legion in France. At the request of the Red 
Cross I was wearing my uniform, and when 
Mouvet saw that I was a Russian he introduced 
himself to me, because he had spent some time 
in Russia and was very much interested in my 
country. 

We exchanged experiences and that day we 
lunched together. 

"What you tell me about the havoc that was 
worked in the Russian ranks because of the lack 
of ammunition makes me think," he said, "that 
your services would be more valuable as a 
speaker than as an artist. With all deference 
to your musical ability, we have lots of players 
here who can amuse an audience sufficiently to 
raise funds, but there are not many people in 
this country whose knowledge of actual condi- 
tions on the front might do more to raise enthu- 
siasm among our war workers." 

"That may be true. I have thought of it 
myself. The unfortunate part about it is that 
I can play, but I can't talk. I'm afraid I'll have 
to let my violin do my talking for me! " 

"I didn't think I could talk, either, until I 
went at it. When you get up on the platform 
the first time you think you will never be able 
to go through with it, but all you've got to do 
is to forget the people in front of you for the 
moment and recall the horrors you have lived 
through — and then you go on talking and you 

[308] 



UNDER THE AMERICAN EAGLE 

see the eyes of the people in front of you opening 
wide and inviting you to continue and — why, 
it becomes the easiest thing in the world. You 
just let me have your papers, your credentials, 
and I'll talk to some of the leaders about 
you." 

I accordingly turned my papers over to him, 
and a day or two later I received an invitation 
from Dr. Charles A. Eaton, head of the National 
Service Section of the United States Shipping 
Board, Emergency Fleet Corporation, to become 
a speaker for the United States government in 
shipyards and ammunition-plants throughout 
the country. 

I presented myself at the headquarters of the 
bureau at the Manhattan Hotel, and there 
Doctor Eaton explained to me the kind of 
work that I would be asked to do and the 
value the government placed upon it. By 
the time he got through I felt that I had been 
wasting an awful lot of time trying to get into 
the army, which could very well get along 
without me, while I had overlooked a branch 
of service where my experience apparently 
would have proved of real value. The way 
Doctor Eaton put it, the tongue was mightier 
than the sword sometimes, and if I couldn't 
wield a sword there was no reason why I 
shouldn't wag my tongue. 

My first assignment was to speak at the 
l3°9] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

Brooklyn Navy -Yard. Mouvet accompanied 
me. He was to speak, too. We rode to the 
Navy -Yard in a car driven by one of the Navy- 
Yard chauffeurs. 

When we started from the hotel Doctor 
Eaton's words of encouragement were still ring- 
ing in my ears and I felt as brave as a lion, but 
by the time we got to the Brooklyn Bridge and 
I realized that in a few moments, perhaps, I 
would be facing an audience of working-men 
who would have difficulty in following my poor 
English, I began to get nervous, and I told Mou- 
vet of my misgivings. 

" Don't worry about that, Paul," he answered, 
reassuringly. "You tell those men some of the 
things you've told me, and they won'.t pay any 
attention to how you speak. Anyway, I will 
take up most of the time, and you will have to 
say only a few words. When you have a sin- 
cere message to give you will be surprised to 
find how easy it is to deliver it. The words just 
come by magic." 

I was not nearly so sure about that as Mouvet. 
I was rather inclined to feel that the little Eng- 
lish I knew would desert me when I needed it 
most, but we were now driving through the en- 
trance of the Navy- Yard and there was no use 
worrying about the inevitable. I was there to 
speak and that was all there was to it. 

We were taken right in to the commanding 
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UNDER THE AMERICAN EAGLE 

officer and reported. Mouvet asked him what 
the situation was in the Yard. 

"Everything is fine," the officer answered. 
"The men are right up on their toes — giving all 
they've got to the cause. Of course, there are 
a few disturbers among them, and it is to offset 
the influence of this undercurrent that we need 
fellows like you to come here from time to time 
and tell us just why it is essential to work harder 
for Uncle Sam to-day than ever it was in history. 
Go to it, boys!" 

As we were escorted to the Yard where several 
hundred of the men were assembled Mouvet 
turned to me and whispered: "I'm going to 
make some of these Bolsheviki cringe. Watch 
me!" 

Corporal Mouvet got up on the platform and 
introduced himself. He wasted very little time 
in preliminaries. He gave them an account of 
what Germany had done to France, and as he 
recounted some of the things he had witnessed 
on the western front his face turned red, the 
veins stood out on his forehead, and he swung 
his clenched fists around vigorously to emphasize 
his arguments. The crowd listened eagerly to 
him and at each successive epithet that he 
applied to the Huns they cheered more heart- 
ily. At times he would call upon the men to 
show whether they agreed with him or not, and 
the immediate response his appeals always 

[311] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

evoked seemed to give him added impetus, and 
he wound up with his audience completely won. 

There wasn't any doubt in my mind, then, of 
the wonderful effect a stirring speech can have, 
and I determined then and there to perfect my- 
self in public speaking until I, too, could handle 
an audience as Mouvet had. That the men 
would go back to their various tasks more de- 
termined than ever to do their utmost for their 
country I was quite convinced. I know his 
words had aroused my fighting spirit, and when, 
after a few words of introduction, in which he 
apologized for my broken English, he made way 
for me on the platform, I had no longer any 
fear on my own account — I feared only that I 
might spoil the wonderful effect that Mouvet 
had created. 

My experience on the concert stage, before 
and since the war, had made me "platform- 
wise." I was accustomed to large audiences. 
The sea of faces which proves so disconcerting 
to most people in their first appearance in public 
was no novelty to me. At the same time I was 
mindful of the great difference between this 
experience and my former appearances. Hith- 
erto my point of contact with my audience had 
been an instrument of which I might modestly 
claim to have complete control. To-day it was 
different. To-day I had to wield an instrument 
— the spoken word — of which I had but an im- 

[312] 



UNDER THE AMERICAN EAGLE 

perfect command. With this unreliable weapon 
I had to capture an audience which no doubt 
contained many who were my superiors. 

These fleeting thoughts occurred to me as I 
stepped toward the crowd, but they were for- 
gotten with the first word I uttered. 

I felt that behind me were the millions of 
men who had died for a noble cause, and in 
front of me were living millions urging me on- 
ward — imploring vengeance against the wicked 
Huns who had set the whole wide world on fire. 
Words came to me that I never dreamed I 
could use. The first cheer from the crowd came 
at the end of my first sentence. Some of the 
enthusiasm which Mouvet had aroused was still 
influencing them and I was getting the benefit 
of it. It acted like a stimulant to me and I 
went on without much faltering. Here and 
there I stumbled over a word or got mixed up in 
the middle of a sentence, but the thoughts came 
to me so quickly that if I found difficulty in 
expressing one I abandoned it in favor of another 
which pressed close behind. 

Those powerful working-men were apparently 
not close critics. They didn't care much about 
English. What they wanted, apparently, was 
facts. They wanted to know why they were 
being asked to strain their bodies and limbs to 
fight a distant foe, and there were hundreds of 
weighty reasons that I could give them. 

[3*3] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

I had been speaking for about five minutes 
when a whistle blew and the men started to 
leave the crowd. The time was up. I finished 
as gracefully as I could, thanking the men for 
their attention and urging them to greater 
efforts for the cause, and the cheers that they 
rendered as I concluded made me feel that per- 
haps, to some unmeasurable extent, I had con- 
tributed to the winning of the war just as truly 
as if I myself had wielded a hammer or bored a 
rivet hole. 

Corporal Mouvet congratulated me on my 
speech. He said I had done well, but I am 
afraid a stenographic report of my actual words 
would read very funny. The experience dem- 
onstrated to me, however, that there was con- 
siderable virtue in this sort of war work, and I 
determined then and there to bend every effort 
to become a proficient speaker. 

Accordingly, when, a day or two later, I re- 
ceived orders to go to Baltimore where I was to 
spend a week in the shipyards in that vicinity, I 
worked out a regular speech on paper. I felt 
that if I could commit a well-constructed speech 
to memory it would have more effect than any 
extemporaneous effort on my part, for, no matter 
how fluent I became, I was certain that I would 
never be able to present my thoughts as clearly 
on the spur of the moment as I would if I put 
them in writing under less pressure, 

[314J 



UNDER THE AMERICAN EAGLE 

That night I arrived in Baltimore. The next 
morning I was called for by a representative of 
the Baltimore Dry Docks and Shipbuilding Com- 
pany. He drove me to the plant where ships 
were being built for the government and where 
work was going on at full speed day and night. 

The manager of the plant took me through the 
place, and we came to an immense tool-room in 
the center of which a stand had been erected. 
It was all covered with American flags and 
assembled around it was a crowd of about three 
thousand men. 

I was in my uniform and had all my medals 
on, and as the manager opened a path for me 
through the crowd they let out a tremendous 
cheer. 

That heartened me, and when I had mounted 
the platform and faced my audience I decided 
to forget all about the speech I had partly com- 
mitted to memory and launch out on an un- 
charted sea. It was the same sort of speech 
I had delivered at the Navy- Yard, and it aroused 
just as much enthusiasm, apparently. This 
time I was the only speaker and I had more time 
to go into some of my experiences on the Russian 
front. To vary the monotony I told them of 
my experience at Savendiki, which I had entered 
as a wandering violinist. Then I told them of 
our two men who had been captured by the Hun 
patrol and whose mutilated bodies had been 

[315] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

returned to us on the peasant's wagon the fol- 
lowing day. I saw from the horror on their 
faces that I was arousing their ire against the 
Huns, and so I went on and told of the treat- 
ment they had accorded Vladimir when we were 
fellow-prisoners, and how they had beaten me. 

If any one had uttered a pro-German senti- 
ment right then I believe that crowd would have 
torn him limb from limb. 

Realizing that they were all worked up to 
fever-heat against the cruel Huns, I then told 
them how the Allies had suffered at different 
times for lack of ammunition, giving them my 
own experiences by way of illustration. To see 
that our boys across the seas were always sup- 
plied with sufficient ammunition, I declared, 
was the important duty which rested upon the 
shoulders of those who were undertaking to 
build our ships. An hour's delay in the com- 
pletion of a steel plate might not at first seem 
very serious, but when one stopped to think that 
the delay in delivering that particular plate to a 
shipyard might mean the same delay in the 
completion of a ship, and the hour's delay in 
the completion of the ship might mean that same 
hour's delay in the sailing of a cargo of ammuni- 
tion, and that same hour's delay might mean 
an hour's delay in the arrival of supplies at a 
particular section in the front-line trenches where 
the war was raging at its height, and that, for 

[316] 



UNDER THE AMERICAN EAGLE 

lack of sufficient ammunition, the Allied barrage 
might fall down just long enough to enable the 
Huns to break through and slaughter thousands 
of our boys — then, I argued, the man who was 
responsible for the delay in the completion of 
that single steel plate had a lot to answer for. 

The loud cheering that greeted this argument 
convinced me that the point had carried home, 
and I thought that was a good place to stop. 

Later in the day I played for another group 
of men and made a short address in the same 
place, this time speaking in Russian to a group 
of workers who were my fellow-countrymen. A 
photograph was taken of the scene and was 
placed in the office of the company. 

I had a very full week. In the daytime I 
addressed the workmen in various shipyards and 
in the evening the Jewish Welfare Board and 
similar organizations usually took me to the 
camps in the neighborhood, where I played for 
the soldiers. 

Each day the work became easier for me. My 
English seemed to improve by leaps and bounds, 
and I began to gage the temperament of my 
audience more accurately and take advantage 
of the openings that presented themselves as I 
went along. 

At one of the camps, when the gentleman in 
charge of the affair announced that the youngest 
war veteran on the Allied side was going to 
21 [3!7] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

address them and mentioned my name, I noticed 
one of the men jump up from his seat and make 
his way to the rear of the platform. After I 
finished speaking he came over and grabbed me 
in his arms. He had known me in Harbin when 
I was little. He was several years older than I 
and had served in the Russian army at the start 
of the war. Later he had come to the same con- 
clusion I had — that after Russia dropped out 
of the war the only thing to do was to go to 
America and continue the fight from there. He 
had managed to get into the American army and 
was waiting to be sent across to fight on the 
western front. Although I was now firmly con- 
vinced that the work I was engaged in was of 
great importance, I could not help envying him. 
When I returned to New York I started to 
study and analyze the labor situation seriously, 
and, in order to improve my elocution, I at- 
tended lectures and listened to experienced 
speakers. I heard many speakers address work- 
ing-men in the course of my own work, and I 
invariably watched the audience carefully, while 
the speaking was going on, to see just what 
effect different arguments produced. In that 
way I learned what line of approach was most 
apt to get the farthest, for one audience of 
working-men was very similar to another. One 
of the things I noticed was that the men seemed 
to resent the scolding tactics which some of the 

[318] 



UNDER THE AMERICAN EAGLE 

speakers adopted. No doubt there were many 
slackers in every plant — in some cases "slacker" 
was undoubtedly too mild a word by far. But 
to refer to the whole audience as slackers, as 
some of the speakers did, and urge them to 
work doubly as hard as they were doing, was 
not, as far as I was able to observe, the best way 
to produce results. 

The fact was, I believed, that the great ma- 
jority of the men in the plants were already 
working to their utmost to win the fight for the 
Allies; there were some who, no doubt, could be 
induced to put more pep into their efforts, and 
there were some who had not yet awakened to 
the importance of the work they were engaged 
in. The traitors in the ranks, the men who 
were maliciously sowing seeds of sedition and 
attempting to arouse dissatisfaction and strikes 
in order to aid the enemy, these, I realized, no 
amount of eloquence on our part could possibly 
convert. 

My general plan in addressing these gather- 
ings, therefore, was to point out what wonderful 
work they were already doing and explain to 
them by vivid illustrations of conditions on the 
front just what their work meant to the boys in 
the trenches, and then I would urge them, if 
possible, to speed up just one notch, and, if that 
wasn't possible, then, for Heaven's sake, to keep 
going at the same speed. 

li l 9] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

As the contacts between these men and myself 
became more and more frequent I got a better 
hold of them. I endeavored to make them for- 
get that they came of various nationalities. I 
asked them to realize that they were all Ameri- 
cans and that I was addressing them as 
Americans — not as Russians, Italians, Poles, 
or whatever nationality they had originally 
claimed. 

I reminded them what German militarism had 
done to the people of Europe, how millions of 
men and women had already paid with their 
lives and happiness in their fight against autoc- 
racy. I reminded them how they had left their 
native homes in search of freedom and democ- 
racy and had settled in this country because here 
they expected to find them, and how they now 
had a chance to back up the men who were 
leaving their homes in this free country to 
carry on the fight in Europe for the benefit of 
all. 

"You left Europe, remember, to find freedom 
in America," I said. "Our boys have left free 
America to fight autocracy in Europe. You 
came to America because you wanted to be free. 
Americans are now going to Europe to make 
the whole world free. Back them up!" 

Then I would ask them to raise their right 
hands and pledge their loyalty to the cause. 
Every hand would go up, naturally, but most 

[320] 



UNDER THE AMERICAN EAGLE 

of them, I felt, went up spontaneously and 
sincerely. 

In Waterbury, Connecticut, I spoke under the 
auspices of the United States Department of 
Labor. It was during one of the hottest spells 
of the summer and frequently I found it neces- 
sary to remove my coat. My exertions would 
invariably leave me almost drowned in per- 
spiration, and the consequence was that I caught 
cold and became so hoarse that for a while I had 
to discontinue speaking. 

At a dinner in Newark, New Jersey, after I 
was able to talk again, I had the honor of speak- 
ing and playing before the Governor, the Hon. 
Walter E. Edge, a number of Senators and other 
prominent men. The dinner was in connection 
with one of the drives for funds for the war suf- 
ferers, and as my playing came immediately 
before the collection was taken up, and a very 
handsome sum was contributed by those pres- 
ent, I had the satisfaction of feeling that the 
charms of my music perhaps had helped to 
soften their hearts and loosen their purse-strings. 

During all this time it was impossible for me 
to get into communication with my family. 
Cables and letters were of no avail because of 
the chaotic conditions in Russia. I was getting 
rather discouraged about this phase of my own 
affairs when I received word that my family had 
left Japan for the United States and would 

[321] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

arrive within a week in San Francisco. By 
the same medium I learned that my father, 
since the overthrow of the Kerensky govern- 
ment, had left Russia and joined the Siberian 
forces under General SemenofT , where he had 
acted as Surgeon-General. 

At this moment I received instructions from 
the Shipping Board to go immediately to Con- 
necticut to address the men in several ammuni- 
tion-plants where labor troubles were brewing. 
The great German drive had been stopped and 
all the Allies were concentrating their forces on 
beating them back once and for all. All our 
hopes were in Marshal Foch. It was the most 
critical period of the whole war. Every man 
and every bit of force was being utilized. It 
was a time which called for the last ounce of 
reserve energy that every one of us could com- 
mand. It was certainly no time to think of 
personal desires. I was very anxious to see my 
family and my thoughts turned in the direction 
of California, but it was out of the question. 
And so I went to Connecticut instead. 

The center of the trouble seemed to be at a 
government steel-plant. The meeting I was to 
address was held in a section of the plant where 
the steel was forged, and most of the men who 
stood around the improvised platform were half 
naked. Their faces were hot and red and black- 
ened with smoke, which made them look very 

[322] 




"courage and bravery won't win a war without 
ammunition to back them up," i declared 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

grim when an occasional glare from one of the 
furnaces would light up their countenances. The 
heat of the place was so stifling that I had all I 
could do to stand it. 

Very stern and determined those men looked 
as I scanned their faces in the glow which spas- 
modically illuminated the smoke-darkened room. 
To ask these men to do more than they were 
already doing seemed presumptuous, and yet 
when I saw the masses of steel lying around the 
room and recalled the storm of shot and shell 
that the Germans were able to pour into our 
panic-stricken ranks because we had no ammu- 
nition with which to resist them, I forgot the 
temporary discomfort of the men in front of me 
and thought only of the plight of their brothers 
at the front. 

44 Courage and bravery won't win a war with- 
out ammunition to back them up," I declared. 
4 ' The failure of Russia in this war can be traced 
to her lack of unity and ammunition. At the 
beginning of the war, when Russia was well 
supplied she was successful. Then the supply 
of ammunition was cut off and defeat became 
inevitable. 

"The Russian retreat meant not only loss of 
territory, but the loss of hundreds of thousands 
of men — soldiers and the inhabitants of the capt- 
ured territory — perhaps workmen like you and 
their women and children. 

[3 2 4] 



UNDER THE AMERICAN EAGLE 

"Look back again to 191 7 when the revolu- 
tion broke out. There we see the results of 
lack of organization. Finally after a long strug- 
gle the old form of government was overthrown 
and we had freedom — but without unity what 
has freedom brought? Ours is a country im- 
mensely wealthy in natural resources, but there 
is no organization and the people are starving 
to death. 

"All of this is the result of the lack of ammu- 
nition — for when the Russians yielded to the 
undermining influence of German propagandists 
and began to lose faith in their own country the 
power of that country was shattered. Ger- 
many to-day has plenty of ammunition because, 
at the point of the bayonet, she is compelling 
every man in the ammunition-factories to stick 
to his job. 

"Now, men, let us show the Germans that no 
external force will make a workman for democ- 
racy — it is only the force from within, the force 
that your own hearts and sense of justice will 
dictate to you that will supply our armies with 
more than enough ammunition to win the war. 
1 A chain is only as strong as its weakest link,' 
and every man who fails to do his duty by re- 
maining away from his war job not only fails to 
stand by the majority of you men here, but goes 
against you by permitting the Germans to get 
just that much ahead of you. 

[325] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

"If there are any here who are not working as 
hard as they can or who stay off the job, ask them 
why they do so. If it is merely through igno- 
rance, explain the situation to them and make 
them see the light. If, however, it is deliber- 
ate and malicious, I leave it to you to treat them 
as you see fit!" 

The crowd cheered so long and loud at this 
point that I began to wonder whether the gov- 
ernment hadn't sent me to the wrong plant. 
There didn't seem to be much dissatisfaction 
here. I congratulated the men on the splendid 
work they had been doing and wished them 
all good luck. I learned afterward that the 
threatened strike at this plant never took 
place. 

When I returned to New York I received 
word by wire that my father was on his way 
across the continent to New York, and the very 
next day he arrived, none the worse for all the 
dangers he had been through. It was a won- 
derful thing for us to be reunited in this far cor- 
ner of the world, far away from the distractions 
and sorrows of war-stricken Europe. 

A day or two later I took my father with me 
on some of my speaking trips, and he addressed 
some of the foreign audiences in Russian, Polish, 
and other Slavic languages. 

By the time the rest of my family arrived, a 
few weeks later, we had secured an apartment 

[326] 



UNDER THE AMERICAN EAGLE 

in New York, and when we were once again 
united in a place we could call home our happi- 
ness was indescribable. 

There was still much work to be done, how- 
ever. The Shipping Board "loaned" me from 
time to time to the Ordnance Department to 
speak at various munition-factories, and I ac- 
companied Doctor Eaton on a speaking tour 
through Philadelphia, where we addressed the 
employees of the Emergency Fleet Corporation. 

It was on this tour that I met Charles M. 
Schwab. His true Americanism stood out all 
over him. From the very first moment I saw 
him my feeling of respect and admiration for 
him was profound. His presence on the plat- 
form when I spoke was a constant source of 
inspiration to me. It was through him, inci- 
dentally, that I received one of the most valued 
souvenirs of my war work — an autographed 
photograph of President Wilson! 

On my way back from Philadelphia I ad- 
dressed the employees of Thomas A. Edison, at 
Orange, New Jersey, and had the honor of an 
interview with that wonderful man. Later I 
made a violin record at the Edison laboratories. 

At a farewell dinner to Doctor Eaton, at 
which we all paid tribute to the inspiration which 
we had received from his remarkable leader- 
ship, he announced that the National Service 
Section would present several workers of the 

[327] 



THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CORPORAL 

United States Shipping Board with medals, and 
I got mine a short time later. 

When my war work came to an end my first 
impulse was to return to my native land, look 
up my old instructor and devote the rest of my 
life to music. I owed a lot to my violin ; it had 
served me more than I had ever served it. 

But then I thought of the future of Russia and 
how much she owed to the part America had 
played in the winning of the war. It seemed to 
me that if I gave up my music and devoted the 
rest of my life to the task of bringing Russia and 
America — so much alike in so many respects — 
into closer relations for their common benefit, I 
would be serving at once the two nations in 
whose welfare I am most deeply interested. 

And that is what I am going to do. 



THE END 



Mia 



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